The Tiger and the Wolf
by RenouncedLove
Summary: Eliesse Lannister, the high born daughter of the infamous Dwarf of Casterly Rock sails North from her refuge in Dorne after being summoned home to Westeros. Olive skin, gold eyes and majestic beauty dub her the Tiger of Casterly Rock. A trip north blurs the lines of duty and honor when the Tiger of Casterly Rock crosses paths with the White Wolf in the north. Jon Snow/OC
1. Chapter 1

Tyrion Lannister waddled down the halls of Casterly Rock, never stopping to take note of the glances by the lowly folk who attended to him and his honorable family.

Though he was a high born, the servants and guards of the castle never quite showed him the same respect they had held for his father, Lord Tywin Lannister, or his siblings Jamie and Cersei. Perhaps it was fear that kept these lowly people in chime. Lord Tywin was a cunning, sleuth man who few dared to cross or anger. Or perhaps it was the looming notion of the Queen, Cersei Lannister, Baratheon by marriage, that her heart was rumored to be cold and far less beautiful than her face by nature. "Beautiful devil" whispered the halls in her absence. Then of course, Ser Jamie Lannister, the King Slayer...The name alone elicited a few whispers of shame and fright.

Whatever the sort it was, the thought would have to spare and be patient for a more appropriate time of pondering; the imp of Casterly rock was being summoned by his father.

Tyrion burst through the doors of his father's study with barely stifled urgency. His balance was askew from a decedent glass of Dornish red he had been sipping whilst reading in his chambers before Giselle, a kitchen wench, and his favorite whore of Casterly Rock, had disrupted his dwindling concentration to bring news that his father requested his presence.

"To what do I owe this honor, father?" Tyrion boomed, confidence of a true lion present in his stature. Tywin, though disgruntled with his disfigured son and ashamed to have him prod his honorable halls, gave Tyrion a flinting look from beneath his seering brow. "I imagine it must be important, for you to call upon me at such an ungodly hour. Though I hear the Proud Lion of Casterly Rock never sleeps...still, to be publically called on is truly an honor I haven't yet had the pleasure of living" Tyrion walked about the study, gesturing to his father with a smug smirk on his strange, mismatched face. He eyed a wine cask mischievously while fixing his arms behind his back.

"And how does it feel, my dear son?" Tywin mocked carelessly, his scowl never leaving his indifferent, stoic face. The old lion was already irritated and tired with his unfavorable son and could vaguely smell what he only knew to be a Dornish red on his son's breath and clothes. Such a peculiar smell, the Dorne grape carried. It smelt of summer heat, drought and the salted sea. Most likely, ripened and kneaded by the ailing dark, cracked fingers of a Dorne slave, spoken over with a drawl that only a descendant of inferiority and peasantry could carry.

How he loathed everything that was Dorne.

But not his son. No, not the fucking imp, _demon monkey_ , he thought. He loved everything that was Dorne.

"I must say, it hasn't quite lived up to what I had imagined. Perhaps once you explain why you have summoned me though, it might" Tyrion mocked while he gleamingly helping himself to a golden chalice that was molded to resemble a lion roaring. Red and green rubies crusted the cup sparkling in the stifled ray of the sun that seeped through plush, red curtains. Though the room was well lit, there was an ominous and dark tone to it. Tywin stood from the oak desk that was littered with letters and crumbled red wax fragments of parchment opened and some to be sent off. Tyrion helped himself to the wine in his father's personal cask, never once taking note of the withered man looming over him in attempt to belittle and make him feel as insignificant as he believed him to be. Tyrion sat quietly and took a painfully slow sip of his wine. He stared up at his disturbed father, never flinching at the cold glint in his eyes that he knew he could only hold for him. Tywin loosened with a exasperated breath.

"Eliesse" He stated plainly, pushing off his desk in a fluid motion. He walked to the window sill that was fogged from the night's dew. Silence overtook the men and swallowed their words, giving birth to a tension that was always so foreign, even between the two dueling father and son.

"What of her" Tyrion demanded, no honor escaping his tinged red lips. His hand gripped the chalice roughly, eyes averted down. Though Tyrion knew no shame for the name, his breath hitched in grief and wary. Lord Tyrion was very rarely disturbed, bested or silent. But the name pained his heart and elicited a fury of anxiety in his chest that he often liked to mistake for a young death brought on by the ale and whoring he regularly partook in. Anything but that name, he wished to hear. Anything but her's. Sweet, sweet Ellie of Dorne.

"Though you might assume, and shall know is not privy the case...I am aware of her name day approaching, yes?" Tywin spoke smoothly, eyeing the full moon that lapped lazily at the banks of his land. Tyrion's gaze followed his father as he paced tiredly through his study. "I take your silence as a confirmation. Nonetheless, she is almost a girl- _woman_ of ten and two. It is time for her to become accustomed with westernland living. I have sent a raven requesting her departure of Dorne immediately" Tywin turned to eye a seething Tyrion. He raised a brow bemused at the imp's reaction.

"She will not return here" Tyrion spat low and full of animosity.

"She will"

"She is only a _girl!_ " he seethed once more.

"She is a _Lannister_!" Tywin boomed, his fist cracking the once smug night and scattering the tension throughout the room and down the halls to curious ears that had suddenly flooded the dark corners. "By blood, she is of my own, whether I rebuke the day you met and fell in love with the peasant-loving soul of her mother Eliessia Martell" Tywin spat, hastily swatting away the wax speckles on his desk. His eyes flitted over to his son whom usually boasted a cunning, proud stature yet looked meek and as small as he stood from the ground. He basked in the moment smugly.

"She is my _daughter_ …the only blood of my own I will _ever_ know…"

"Yet you sent her away like you do the whores after you are finished parading them around my castle, shameless and all. I will hear nothing of your woes" Tywin dismissively took a seat once more at his desk and dipped his quill in ink as black as his soul and undoubtedly his intent. He began writing scrawl, not once taking heed of his son who had grown somber and small.

Tyrion sat silently in his chair, eyes averted to his cup that was filled with red deliciousness. But the deliciousness suddenly seemed to be a pool of blood that leaked from his throat and bubbled from ashamed lips. He could not find his proud, slick voice or form any words that would best his father. No, Tyrion was ashamed.

"I sent her away because it was unsafe for her to remain in lands with monsters bearing chain mail that choked, defiled and robbed the life from her mother whilst she still suckled at her bosom...a babe no older than a day and she witnessed the murder of her mother and her mother's beloved sister and small children. If Jamie hadn't burst through the keep's doors at that exact moment…My sweet Ellie would be dead, and you satisfied no less, I'm sure. That was your plan, after all. Murder any remnants of me and my blood, rip them out root and stem...the idea of your imp son raising an heir...a true, Lannister heir sickened you. So long as it came from the demon monkey son, it be deemed a punishment of the Gods" Tyrion bellowed low in his chest, thrusting the cold, gold chalice upon his father's desk and cracking the old Lord's concentration from his parchments.

Tywin scowled, leaning back ominously to glare at his son with cold, emerald eyes. The air in the quiet study was moist and cool from the dewy night but sharp where elevated breaths were taken between the two men sparing with cunning and word.

"The wine clouds your judgment, Tyrion. I have not nor will not forsaken my granddaughter to the impregnable dessert of Dorne any longer. True ye say safety be the top priority of our beloved Eliesse's sending to Dorne to live with her uncle Oberyn, but it is time for her to take her rightful place by namesake in the westernlands. Barren Dorne has taught and served all purpose for the young woman and here is no threat becoming in Westeros. She shall return before being wed off to a lowly name or bastard, as Dorne culture takes no offense to status. Eliesse will learn her heritage and duty as a westerner and Lannister by name, and I will hear no more of your intolerable chatter to the fact" Tywin boasted dismissively, turning back to his quill and ink.

Tyrion squeezed the chalice once more and harshly threw back the remnants of its contain. He slammed the cup once more on the oak desk, though this time Tywin did not flinch nor glance from the letter he was writing.

He knew he had won.

Tyrion quickly padded towards the study's door, unable to bare the sharp pain that had ignited behind his left ear, or silence the screams deep within his chest. His mind became a slew of Eliessia's great, lordly laugh that though he could remember like he'd heard it all day, was slowly becoming muffled and farther imbedded in his memory by his own doing. He wanted to silence his great love, for fear that his still ripened grief would implode like a dam breaking and drown him in everlasting sorrow.

Wine and whoring was his only way to escape the sharp pain in his chest for his great love and their sweet daughter, innocent and rosy cheeked. He had barely kissed her button nose before she was whisked away by smugglers, her pathetic and weak cry drowned out by the sound of the bay and undocking of a common ship in Kings Landing. He himself was a man of no more than ten and six, though at that moment he couldn't of felt more like a boy. Guilt filled his bones as he watched a wet nurse whisk his Eliesse away. A small babe, motherless and now fatherless was to be shipped off with letter intact and intended to a family that he knew loathed the Lannister insignia but would take refuge in the tiny piece that remained of their beloved Eliessia. Though Dorne wept for their princesses, they would rejoice for their incarnate.

" _It is my duty as Eliesse's father to protect her and ensure the longevity of her life. I could not do the same for my beloved Eliessia or her sweet sister, Elia. But I give you my greatest gift, with sorrow in my heart and blood in my mouth. Keeping her would be serving no justice in her name and placing love before duty. Though she bares a name you loathe, I pray to the God's you won't turn her away or punish her for the sins of father's. She is but a babe, my babe, and I love her with all the little my heart be. Please protect her. She is the only piece of Eliesse left in a cruel world that would do good to know her love. Raise her with light in her heart and strength in her veins. May she be fierce and bold like our Ellie in all her days._

 _Yours truly,_

 _The Imp of Casterly Rock"_


	2. Chapter 2

"Up!"

Eliesse's chest heaved dry and hoarse as sweat dripped silently down her furrowed and cut brow. The salt within the small, budding beads stung brighter than the smoldering Dorne sun that glared down angry and ashamed.

"Eliesse, up I say!"

More low, shallow breaths barely slid past the part in her full, cracked lips. Try though she did, to moisten the rugged surface of hoarse red voluptuous hills upon her bruised and dirty face. Her eyes blurred in the oasis of a sun that flared its nostrils and turned up its nose at her defeated position, sprawled upon the hot dirt floor of the Sunspear castle.

" _Shame. You are no snake. No viper...no warrior of Dorne..."_

Another shallow, pained breath as her lashes flicked more sweat away from eyes that looked like gold had been set ablaze.

"Eliesse, I said _get_ UP!" Boomed Eliesse's uncle Oberyn Martell. He leaped from his chair in the courtyard, nostrils flaring in rage and concern. This was not his late, fierce warrior sister Eliessia's child. No child of the bold, stealth Eliessia Martell would ever submit or be bested. _Not even by_ _ **his**_ _own children._

Oberyn's bastard daughter Obara snickered and whisked her spear around to her back, satisfied at making the young girl submit. "It's that _Lannister_ blood in you dear cousin. It holds you back. Perhaps you'd be at an advantage if I turned my back. Isn't that a combat style of your _kind?_ " she chuckled, earning a smirk from her two other sisters who were spectating at today's combat practice.

Eliesse's eyes flew open, her own nostrils flaring and sucking in heat and rage. Her jaw clenched, teeth snapping together so roughly she could've sworn they'd crack and come tumbling out of her mouth, soaked in blood and fury.

She spun her legs around and flipped off the ground with ease, landing gracefully on her feet. Obara cocked an eyebrow, the smug look never leaving her boyish face. "She lives" she remarked snidely.

Eliesse heaved in steam and rage, her chest burning from the unforgiving Dorne heat. Though blood pooled at her eyebrow and seeped into her eyes, she drew in another hasty breath and charged the Sand Snake.

Eliesse sprinted forward with teeth grit, drawing blood with every pulse and snatched her misplaced training spear from the ground in haste. Her knuckles drug across the cracked earth spewing small streams of fresh blood down her tanned arm.

Obara braced, spear readily positioned in front of her and awaiting the fury of the weak Lannister girl that thundered towards her. But Eliesse was no weak girl, her heart carried the fury of a Dornish sand storm and her strength more deadly and calculated than the bite of a viper.

These Sand bastards underestimated Eliesse's skill and will to live. Her _need_ to survive and triumph in a place that loathed the blood that rushed her veins. Her ferocity overlooked and snickered upon by her cousins...but she was no weak girl.

She was a viper...

...She was _unbowed, unbent and unbroken..._

 _...And she was Eliessia Martell's heir_.

With a warrior's cry she took her spear in both hands and hit ferociously against Obara's own. The sound cracked like lightning across the great castle and sand dunes of Dorne. The sound sent buzzards fleeing from the palm trees and curious ears and wandering eyes to the courtyard.

Again, and again she swung, her fury never faltering and anger never simmering. Each fluid and swift motion, a viper's dance, pushed the bastard girl farther and farther into the unforgiving ground. Obara could barely counter Eliesse's fury as she dug her boots into the searing earth beneath, beckoning for a grip she would not find.

With a swift and skilled flick of her wrist, Eliesse knocked Obara's spear from her grip and sent it flying behind her. Obara quickly turned, hoping to retrieve the spear as it took flight over her head.

But it was too late, and a childish mistake at that. When Obara realized she had let her eyes off the Lannister girl, she quickly turned in attempt to counter the strike she knew would be mid-air.

But she was not quick enough.

Obara turned just in time to be face to face and nose to nose with the _cowardly lion_ she regularly tormented. And that lion's great paw came down with spear intact, cracking her roughly across the jaw and sending her flying back, blood askew.

Obara's vision blurred and darkened from her place on the ground. She shook her head roughly, trying to regain control of her body that instantly became weak and dazed. Her lips stung as she blinked furiously at the ground beside her, witnessing more and more red liquid streaming down her chin and pooling at her knees.

She glanced up and was greeted by the shimmering point of Eliesse's spear, and at the end of it, her heaving chest and teeth still clenched in rage.

Eliesse retracted the spear, preparing to thrust it forward into the little, boyish girl's eye when her uncle's loud voice boomed from behind her.

"Eliesse, that is enough. You know honor…" he warned, his voice gentle but firm. He placed a rough, hot hand on her bare back, steadying the shaking girl. Eliesse relaxed, and dropped her spear, finally exhaling the steam that was birthed by her fury. She exhaled long and deep, tilting her head to the sky. Softly, she blinked, watching the oasis of heat smolder the looming sun.

And the sun glared back, though satisfied once more.

—

Oberyn Martell walked leisurely down the halls of the Sunspear castle. It was dusk, and the sun was preparing to turn west for the night. It's departure left the air unusually cool for Dorne, causing the great Oberyn a mysterious chill up his spine. Something was amiss.

Quick but struggled footsteps began to pace behind him as he turned and found himself face to face with the elderly Maester of Sunspear. "Lord Oberyn," his withered voice began, "a raven has arrived this evening from the western region of Westeros" he puffed, tired from trying to reach the Lord's pace.

"Is it from the King?" Oberyn questioned curiously, his brow furrowed.

"No, my viper" the Maester huffed once more.

"Then it concerns me not" Oberyn dismissed, turning to continue down the great halls. He was tired from the day. His daughters and niece had ended their training but continued their fury outside the sparring grounds. The remainder of the day had consisted of breaking apart angry, vengeful girls. And to think they hadn't had their blood yet, as well. He sighed deeply. _These Dornish women…_

" _Please_ , my Lord. The letter hails from the Westerlands of Casterly Rock... _Lord Tywin Lannister writes you"_

Oberyn stopped his pace, never turning to face the Maester.

His mighty fist clenched. "Show me at once"

—

Eliesse sunk low in her steaming bath, becoming engulfed in the scents of jasmine and oils of willowherb. Her body ached terribly from training as she became lost in the sensory, feeling new and old scars burn and nip at her raw skin, setting it ablaze. She winced as she sunk lower and lower, the heat amplifying yet subsiding her pain.

"My lady, your brow continues to bleed. I will need to fetch the bud of marjoram to stop it's flow" Thara, Eliesse's personal handmaiden spoke thickly, her accent drowning her hoarse voice. She ran her calloused but small hands through Eliesse's short and bouncy, golden brown hair. The wet ringlets barely touched her shoulders and were the softest, silkiest coils Thara had ever touched. She would sometimes joke that it was the seed of envy the Sand Snakes held for Eliesse.

"Let it bleed, let it fester. Death would be much easier than living here more moons" Eliesse grumbled, picking at the butchered skin of her knuckles. Thara swatted her hand away and began dabbing her brow with a wet cloth.

"It has been worse, my lady. The Sand Snakes are envious of your uncle's love and adoration of you. Seem it be his love for you more true then his love for them. _All_ of them" she chuckled softly, stroking up and down the young Lannister's bruised and puckered arm. She frowned internally at the sight. Eliesse always pushed herself since a small child to be better, _stronger_ than the rest.

 _She always had something more to prove._

"I suppose some days are worse than others…" Eliesse began, "Uncle says my skill is almost as good as my Mother's when she was my age...maybe even older" she smiled silently to herself.

Her sweet, strong, warrior mother. _The Viperess of Dorne._

How she dreamed of making her proud and being just like her. _But who_ _ **was**_ _her?_ Her uncle would sometimes take her arm and hand through the beautiful gardens of Sunspear and whisper stories of mischief and bravery to her of sweet and sharp, Eliessia Martell. Of all the stories he'd told her, the one where she defeated him in hand to hand combat on her ten and fourth name day was her favorite.

" _Your mother was the bravest, quickest warrior of her age. She was also the most daring. Your grandfather both loved and hated that about her"_ He would often say with his smile great and bright and eyes wet and sorrowful.

"A secret be between you and I, my lady...I believe true you are stronger" She smiled, rinsing the oils from her naked, tanned body. Eliesse stood up from her bath as Thara wrapped a soft sheepskin cloth around her slick body.

A thundering knock came from the door.

Eliesse and Thara exchanged a wary look, as she swiftly reached for a dagger on the bathside table. "Who goes there?" Thara called to the door.

"Oberyn" the familiar voice called back. Eliesse and Thara both exhaled gingerly, their hearts subsiding in soft tremors. Thara nodded softly to Eliesse, as she coaxed the girl to place down the dagger.

Thara rushed to the door, opening it swiftly. "My lord" she bowed, extending an arm into the chambers. He smiled softly, nodding at Thara. His eyes flicked to his niece with a woman's body barely concealed in her bath linens. No, something else lay under the sheepskin that caused him worry. _The irony,_ he thought.

"Miss Thara, would you be so kind as to give my niece and I a moment of quiet?" Oberyn spoke gently, his voice barely over a whisper on the breeze. Whenever the Viper of Dorne wandered the great halls well past the moons rising, ears perked in vast and long corridors.

"Of course, my lord" Thara bowed, glancing at Eliesse through dark bangs and thick lashes. _Be calm, my flower._ She quietly left, closing the door behind her.

Oberyn looked about the chambers, touching the red silk curtains that hung throughout the room. His eyes wandered to her desk in the corner, parchment and ribbon askew. The air was heavy with heat and the scent of jasmine. _It was always her oil of choice._

Eliesse dropped her sheepskin, reaching in exchange for a sheer orange night dress that left nothing to the imagination. In Dorne, nudity was nothing to be bashful about. It was admired, _boasted_...something so natural and unhidden. Men did not ogle the nakedness of women, but treated their rawness as a supple fruit, ripe and sustaining...always preserving.

Oberyn turned to Eliesse, a small smile on his lips. He gingerly approached her and cupped the small of her bruised cheek between his great hands. His thumb drew over her coarse, ripped bottom lip slowly. "Your beauty, it makes me proud and fearful all at once, my sweet Ellie. Often times, I watch you about the courtyards and gardens and become lost in your radiance. From the sway of widening hips, to the everlasting summer glow of your skin…" he chuckled slightly, staring deep into Eliesse's eyes, "I have been fighting letters from every corner of Westeros of men who beg to take your hand. Some promise gold, land, armies...alliance. But I have always said no. Perhaps, in my soul I believe it true that no one deserves you. _Perhaps_ , I am a selfish uncle who loves his niece too much to send away".

The room fell quiet, only the soft hum of the critters in the castles garden's could be heard. A soft breeze blew silence around the room, lapping at the curtains and threatening to end Oberyn's whispers of devotion.

"My sweet, Ellie…" Oberyn withdrew his hand and knelt in front of Eliesse. He stared into her eyes, so fiery, they looked of melted gold, hot and fluid. "Do you remember when you asked me of your father?"

Eliesse sucked in a sharp breath, her stomach doing an involuntary flip. Yes, she remembered. She was of six name days and one of the castle's stewards made a snide comment of Eliesse being a "high born brat", simply because she refused to share her prickly pear with one of her cousins.

She remembered being young, and feeling terribly meek and alone. True it be, Eliesse was aware she didn't _exactly_ look like all her cousins and the people of Dorne. Her skin, though olive and kissed by the sun wasn't as dark as some of her family and her hair was not wavy, but unnaturally bouncy, light brown, and shone gold when the sun was at its highest. The rest of her blood bared hair as black as ink.

Still be, she yearned to fit in. She wanted to be a Martell...a _true_ viper. So she cut her hair short and let her curls go untamed and as wild as her spirit, only ever tying it up in a loose bun with a red, silk ribbon, spun with gold. _A gift from her uncle_.

"Yes, I do" she but whispered, afraid that if her voice rose too high, the moment would shatter and be lost, and an answer she sought be gone for good.

"I told you, he is a high born son of an evil Lord in Westeros. This is true. His name is Tyrion Lannister. I know...that you know of the stories of your mother's death. She was killed along with your aunt Elia and small cousins on the order of an evil man…" Oberyn rose briskly from the girls feet, his fist clenched and eyes shut for fear of releasing a sea of sorrow.

"You said the evil man was aiding the new king in overthrowing aunt Elia's husband, the crown prince, and father, the then King" Eliesse spoke quietly, watching her uncle pace her chambers with unsettled fury.

"Yes...this man...wanted to erase all blood ties to the crown, so that he could help the King claim it for himself and assume his place on the throne. His intent was to assist the King in winning the throne, in hopes that he would repay his gratitude by marrying the man's daughter...the Queen" Eliesse nodded slowly to her uncle's words while sucking in a shallow breath.

"When this man sent mercenaries after your aunt, it unfortunately happened be that your mother was there and had just given birth in the capital. She wanted to be close to her older sister during such an important time…the birth of her greatest love. Her first born" Oberyn's eyes painfully swept to Eliesse whose own eyes were dull and wary with unfamiliar grief. Her mother's love was foreign to her, but Oberyn's pain gravitated across the room and swallowed her whole, keeping her hostage in sorrow that was so surreal, she imagined it true.

"This man, Eliesse...who sent the mercenaries, was your father's father...and your grandfather, Tywin Lannister...he sends a raven this morn requesting your return to the westernlands" Oberyn gripped the dagger on the bathside desk. His eyes drifted back to Eliesse who immediately stood from her bed.

" _Return_ to westernlands? But uncle, you told me I was _born_ here. That when my mother died, my father wanted nothing to do with me...so he left Dorne and sailed home across the sea, bidding nothing of a farewell or sadness to leave me behind!" Eliesse boomed, hot tears welding in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill and flood the silent room with agony and betrayal.

"Ellie, I said what I had to...To keep you safe. Even as a babe and child, you showed so much fierceness and wild nature...Just like your mother...I feared if you knew the truth, you'd run off in the night and board a merchant ship and sail after a family you needn't know" Oberyn glided across the room, taking Eliesse's face once more in his hand. Eliesse's throat was dry and choked with grief that lay stifled deep in her throat. It beckoned to her, threatening to bubble over.

" _You said he didn't want me. You said he was_ _ **dead**_ _!"_ Eliesse finally choked, a sob spilling from her trembling, cracked lips. "Why would you tell me these things? Please...I need to know" She cried, hot tears streaming under her chin and dropping silently to the floor. The room was still and quiet, she could hear every pain filled bead that connected with the golden carpet of her chambers.

"I thought I was protecting you...but here I stand mistaken. This evil man, your grandfather, is requesting your immediate return to the west…" Oberyn dropped his hand, nostrils flaring as he whipped the dagger across the room and stuck it in the bed post. "But I will not surrender you. Dorne will raise its banners before Eliessia Martell's heir crosses the sea back into murderous hands" Oberyn turned at once to Eliesse, grabbing her face between shaking, frantic hands. His eyes searched her own, mirroring their pain and anguish. He pressed his lips roughly to her forehead, savoring the feel of her smooth skin against his trembling lips.

"Uncle...no"

Oberyn released Eliesse hastily, staring into her glistening gold eyes. "What do you speak of, no?" He whispered harshly. "I will _not_ surrender my niece...my sister's _babe…"_

"I must leave. My time has run out here. I _wish_ to leave Dorne, uncle…" Eliesse breathed, as she placed her small, soft hands overtop Oberyn's.

" _But why?"_ Oberyn whispered painfully as his eyes frantically searched for a familiar light in his beloved niece's own. Did she truly forsake him? Did she despise him with every fiber in her body for denying her the truth she truly deserved? Had his act of valor dissipated before his eyes and be replaced with treason? Eliesse let go of her uncle's hands and walked slowly to the arched windows of her chamber. She stared off into the moonlight that bathed the sand dunes in a ominous glow. Her eyes flickered across the gardens of the Sunspear, courtyard and pillars beyond its great walls. The scent of wild lily and honey filled her nose as she closed her eyes.

She soaked in the moonlight, the cool chill it birthed and warm air it mingled with. She memorized the whir of the palm trees and flower beds in gardens...the soft hum of its nightly creatures. She sucked every sound, smell, sweet taste of the Dorne air...so innocent and familiar, and tucked it away for safekeeping in her heart.

"I may be a Lannister by name, but the poison of the viper courses my veins. I am a Martell. Blood through and out. I will return to the westernlands and take my place, dutifully as a Lannister. And when the moment is right, I will strike like the viper I am, laying siege to the Lannister name and burn their house to the ground…I _will_ avenge Elia Martell…

... _I will avenge my_ _ **mother**_ "

—

Eliesse stood solemnly on the shipping dock of Dorne's markets. She watched as waves crashed against the cliffs that stood proud and strong off the coast of the island. Her silk, golden gown clung desperately to budding curves and hugged her in places that were not present so long ago.

Oberyn watched his niece painfully. _His pride and joy..._ The princess reborn of Dorne. From the corner of his eye, a large ship bannered with the sigil of his great house bounded the corners of the cliff. "I will keep her safe" a soft voice spoke from behind him.

He turned quietly, meeting the eyes of Thara. "I have been caring for her since she be a babe...and I will continue to care for her until she needs me no longer. You have my word, M'lord" she bowed solemnly. Oberyn nodded, turning back to Eliesse who was handing off her bags to the captain of the ship. The air smelt of salt and despair at that exact moment. Though his heart was torn, he stood proud of the warrior who stood beyond his eyes. _I suppose the Imp of Casterly Rock got his wish for his daughter to be bold and fierce_ , he thought bemused.

Eliesse glanced up, meeting the eyes of her uncle who was stalking towards her with her handmaiden in tow. "Thara will accompany you and keep you out of trouble…" Oberyn smirked, stroking Eliesse's cheek. She turned into it, relishing in the familiar feel and scent her beloved uncle carried. "I love you, my child. I wish you good fortune and health in the trials to come". He leaned forward and pressed a lasting kiss to her head for the final time. She closed her eyes, tucking this memory away too, for safekeeping.

"Goodbye, Uncle. May we meet again" She whispered thickly, though there was no time for tears or sorrow. She had a mission. She had a _purpose_ and it was time to fulfill it.

With a quick sparing glance, she boarded the ship with Thara in tow. A sounding horn signaled the ships undocking. Quickly, she ran up to the deck of ship, and looked over, taking in one last time the plains of Dorne. The sun shone brightly over the region. It was almost as if it would never set. She thought she might've seen her uncle waving her off, but she couldn't be sure. She looked up once more to the sun, and as always, it glared back proud and true. She closed her eyes, basking in its rays one last time as the scent of Dorne, _her home,_ began to dissipate.

It was her twelfth name day.


	3. Chapter 3

" _I see the mainland! Sound the horn!"_

A trumpet sounded throughout the ship that carried Eliesse, Thara and fifty Dornish soldiers across the open sea to Casterly Rock.

Oberyn Martell thought it be necessary to have a royal escort follow his beloved niece to the westernlands, in case Tywin Lannister's raven was a lure of the last Princess of Dorne, and not a peaceful request for her to return to true homeland.

Eliesse jumped in a cold sweat out of her sleep. The sheets were soaked in sweat and sickness, though she was ashamed to call upon Thara once more to assist. Thara had been up with the young girl countless times through the days and nights they spent on the sea. Eliesse has counted six sunsets from the night she left her home in Dorne.

Her eyes were heavy in the cabin's darkness as she fought to adjust to the dim light that began to seep through the small window. Her lips were uncomfortably dry, and stomach small from the little sustenance she could retain. She was weak, tired and unsure of the journey she promised to see through. She had been barely surviving on the buds of lychee fruit and sugar-cane water.

The scent of salt was still prominent on the ship and mixed with a hint of ale and vomit. It would seem many of the other Dornish soldiers were not accustomed to being out on vast waters for long days and nights, too. Her eyes watered as she thrust herself from her sheets and to the bucket Thara had left at the end of her bed. Aye, she was not a good sailor, at all.

Dry heaves wracked her small frame as she clutched the wooden pail between sweaty, trembling fingers. _Seven hells, when will this nightmare end? The God's bewitch me!_

"M'lady, why haven't you called for me?" The sound of Thara's voice interrupted Eliesse's heaving as she rushed to her side and knelt. She gently rubbed the sickly girl's back, hoping to illicit some comfort in a body that was spared none these past days and nights. Tremors travelled through Eliesse's body as she soothed slowly, the ripe taste of bile still sharp on her tongue.

"I'm fine" she wheezed, her hand waving off Thara weakly. "T-they seen l-land. Ready my belongings...I need to get the hell off this ship" She slowly drew down from the bucket, sprawling weakly on the damp cabin floor. Tiredly, Eliesse pressed her cheek to the cool floor, relishing in the comfort it drew against her hot, flustered skin. She breathed slowly, eyes shut tightly for fear if they opened, the room would spin once more and send her back heaving into the sickly bucket. Her hair clung matedly to her face, soaked and wreaking of a stench unbecoming of a woman.

Thara bit her lip, worry creasing her already sunburned and tired face. The young viperess would send her to an early grave with all her might and stubbornness. Thara was not old, nor young. When Eliesse was a young girl and would ask her how old she truly was, she would chuckle and shake her head, " _Young enough to love the great Oberyn but old enough to know better"._

"Yes M'lady" she answered swiftly, standing and grabbing the girls chest of clothes and belongings and disappearing to the doorway. "The lady's clothes and belongings" she announced to the two Dornish guards standing outside Eliesse's door. They nodded, hurrying up the ships stairs to the deck.

The ship gave a great, gurgling lurch and came to swaying halt. Eliesse could vaguely hear the sound of men yelling to one another and the clinking of chainmail as soldiers marched to the deck.

Thara knelt beside the defeated girl, resting a firm hand on her bare back and sweeping her wet hair from pained eyes. "We are here, my flower"

—

Eliesse leaped from the ship's bridge, finding her footing carefully on an unfamiliar black dock. Her silk, lilac dress hugged her body closely and fluttered gracefully in the soft isle breeze as she looked around to her new surroundings.

Isles and isles of dark, volcanic rock erupted from the great sea creating a fortress of stone that stood proud and unwaveringly against a turbulent current. Eliesse walked slowly from the black dock with the sound of marching chainmail behind her to remind her that she was safe. _At least the young viper hoped as much._

Her feet, encased in fine Dornish leather met the soft, smooth plains of Casterly Rock's beach. The sand was cool and wet...nothing like what she had grown accustomed to from her homeland. In Dorne, the sand was soft and misleading...inviting at the eyes but scolding from an unapologetic sun. It would teach those new to its lands a firm lesson upon arrival.

She knelt slowly, picking up a small sea pebble from the dark, moist sand. She stared at it, running her small fingers over the docile and smooth surface. She tilted her head to side, watching the pebble gleam with every swipe of urgency her fingers placed upon it. She squeezed it shut between her palm, glancing around herself once more. Thara stood quietly to her side, watching the young girl quizzically, wondering what sly and calculated thoughts were running rapid in her vengeful mind.

Her thoughts were cut short by the thundering sound of hooves against the Earth off in the distance. She glanced up from the pebble, watching a sea of red and gold cascade over a hill. Bannerman waved a flag boasting a proud gold lion as they trudged forward toward Eliesse and her men.

She straightened, dropping the meek pebble in its place.

Almost simultaneously, and following their princess, the Dornish soldiers armour rang loud and proud as they prepared to bare arms.

Tywin Lannister headed the mob of soldiers. He came to a trotting halt on his steed, glowering at the fifty Dornish militants that stood spear in hand, aimed dutifully at his own men. He smirked, bemused.

He leaped gracefully from his horse, eyes never leaving the gleaming sun child that stood before him. Her eyes were truly gold ablaze, just as songs whispered across Westeros had said. Her hair tied neatly in a bun had a few loose curls escape its holding. Still, it shon gold and brown...almost glowing in the glare of the clouded sky. And her skin...smoldered and kissed by the sun itself.

She was truly a sight.

 _Just as he'd hoped._

"Eliesse, my sweet granddaughter...the God's rejoice in your return" he called to her, slowly slipping his gloves from withered, pale skin. "I trust the seas were fair to you?" He smiled, his eyes sharp and cunning and full on intent. He reached forward, grasping her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her warm skin.

The Dornish soldiers armed.

Eliesse raised her hand slowly in disapproval, never once taking her eye off the sleuth lion. The army disarmed, spears resting at their side. Tywin's eyes narrowed as he turned his face up at the army that stood before him. _Her army_. He eyed each soldier closely, his cold blue eyes slicing through the silence of the turbulent isle.

 _Dornish scum._ He spat grotesquely to his side.

"The waters were fair, my Lord" Eliesse answered fluidity. "My," she chuckled, glancing behind to her soldiers and back again to the brooding Tywin Lannister, "You must forgive my men. The seas were fair but not generous. They are men starved...and we know how hunger can drive a man mad. I trust _you_ are a man of hospice and will show these good men gratitude for safely escorting their lady across the harsh sea?"

Tywin smirked, though the gesture did not reach his eyes.

 _She was truly Tyrion's child, silver tongued and all._

"But of course, dear granddaughter. Come, let us go back to the castle and get you and _your_ _men_ a hot portion and cold ale. I'm sure you are famished, my child." Tywin extended his arm towards his army, gesturing a squire forward. "A gift, my lady…"

A white horse was brought forward by a trembling squire who looked to be no older than her. She stared deeply into the young boys eyes, earning a flint of uncertainty from him. He shied away from her glare, sure that if she returned it, he'd soil himself where he stood. _She was uncomfortably beautiful._ "Many thanks" she spoke sweetly, retrieving the reigns from his shaking hands. He nodded meekly, eyes low for a fear she could not see.

"She is beautiful. Thank you, my lord" Eliesse said sweetly, her eyes flickering to the murderous man who loomed her presence. The horse was branded in gold and red saddle and linens...a proud lion stretched long and far across its back. Eliesse internally cringed, though gave no hint of her distaste.

"Please, call me grandfather. I've waited so long to hear ye speak such words…"

—

The gates of Casterly Rock opened with a ominous lurch as Lannister soldiers began galloping in with steed and swords in hand. Eliesse headed the men, along with the Dornish soldiers who flanked her sides while she rode sheepishly through the great walls.

"Squire, show these _Dornish_ soldiers to the stables and call for a kitchen wrench to prepare many portions and barrels of ale" Tywin Lannister boomed from behind Eliesse.

"M'lord" the strange squire boy replied in submittance while riding off towards the great keep.

"My granddaughter, I have arranged for two head maidens to accompany you to your new chambers and take care of your linens and belonging...Abby and Edith" he nodded towards two fair headed women whose eyes shone with wonder and fear as they timidly approached the glowing lady of Dorne on steed. They stood before Eliesse, never looking up to meet her eyes directly. It was as though they thought stone would become of them if they made eyes with the young lady. They curtsied, heads still bowed and eyes full of bewilderment.

"Pardon me, my lo- _grandfather_ , but I have brought my personal handmaiden who has doted on me since I was a babe. I'm sure you can understand my desire for some sort of familiarity in unfamiliar lands..." Eliesse spoke, eyes never leaving the strange girls or strange people who looked to her like she were a dragon of three heads.

Aye, it was true that since the lady had ventured through the proud Lannister gates, the courtyard had gone ghostly dim and of silence. All that could be heard were the trotting of war horses and bustle of lowly folk who tried with all their might to avoid the Dornish Lannister who boasted in their presence. The stench in the air was full of curiosity and horse shit, though Eliesse couldn't figure out which one she preferred or were more apparent.

"Of course" Tywin smiled smugly, eyes shooting dismissively towards the two maidens. They did not have to be told twice. The two women disappeared quickly, one nearly tripping over her kitchen cloths and falling into a pile of manure.

Eliesse snorted, eyebrow high and amused.

"The two maidens will direct you and your head maiden to your chambers where I trust you will be at peace and content with its arrangement. Supper is to commence soon...do wash and prepare yourself, my child." Tywin sneered while thrusting his reigns towards the stables. In a thunderous gallop, he was gone, leaving Eliesse to exhale the anxious breath that had bewitched her lungs since their first encounter on the beach.

Thara placed a comforting hand on Eliesse's leg, causing the girl to jump with fright. Her mind was stricken with wonder, fear and eagerness. "Come, my flower. The maidens call to us" she said sweetly, nodding in the direction of Abby and Edith who were waiting and beckoning the two women forward. Eliesse straightened on her horse, back arched and proud as she thrashed her reigns proudly and trotted towards them.

—

Eliesse stared out the window of her chambers that were sheathed in gold and red, baring lions across every wall. She was welcomed by the ambiance of a moonlit ocean, whir of crashing waves and smell of wet sand. It was not the gardens she were accustomed to and had grown loving and running briskly through since the time she could walk...but it would be home.

 _For now, at least._

She fingered the soft silk of her red gown, relishing the lingering scent of jasmine that was still ripe upon it. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, losing herself in nostalgia and sorrow all at once. It smelt of happiness, heat and fine spices. It smelt of a home that lay across a swallowing black sea and beyond dangerous borders. Here, there were no jasmine oil, or wild thistle...only lavender and lily. She brooded, picking up a small vial of the extracted oils and dabbing it behind each ear, eyes never breaking focus on the black waters in front of her.

"My flower," Thara whispered as she opened the door to her chambers. "Lord Tywin sends for you".

Eliesse closed her eyes and inhaled deeply in attempt to subside the involuntary trembling that had consumed her body. "Of course. I am coming" she breathed evenly, her tone and stance no longer displaying an anxious mind.

Thara led the young girl down dark, candle lit corridors. The halls echoed deep and grim with shadows birthed by candlelight dancing a madman's twist across the grey brick walls. A chill breathed sharp and cold down the halls as Eliesse subconsciously held her arms for fear it'd rob the warmth from right under her flesh.

Large doors to a great hall opened, but there was no lively music or warm faces pink from the ale running about. There were no jesters or lowly ladies slapping away high lord's mischievous hands...no high ladies scowling proud and true at their lord husbands perversion. No, there was no warmth.

 _Just Tywin Lannister sitting soberly at the head of a table._

He glanced up from his scrawl, plate virgin and cup dry. "Ah, Eliesse. Come child, before your plate cools." He gestured the unsure girl forward to a seat that was too close to his own, plate empty and glass unwet.

Eliesse walked and sat quietly, eyes straight and staring at various paintings of pale faces and yellow haired men. All proud, all somber, all murderous in their own right.

"Forgive me, I'm sure you were hoping that your father would be joining us this evening. Tyrion is in Kings Landing, the capital of Westeros. He awaits our arrival in a few days time." Tywin spoke smugly, cutting into the chicken that was placed upon his plate.

Eliesse's eyes darted from the paintings to the lord's sheepish, undisturbed face. _Waiting on our_ _ **arrival?**_

"Pardon me, grandfather, but we will not be staying here? I thought perhaps at least a few days rest were expected for myself and my men-

"Your men are no more, sweet child. I've sent them back across the sea. You needn't their protection here, girl. You're among family" He smirked devilishly, placing another piece of food into his sly mouth. Tywin watched Eliesse closely, looking for a flint of fear in her eyes he knew would not come. For he knew the honorable Eliesse _Martell_ was not so easily shyed. So, he would have to make her a Lannister, true. Bound by duty and submissive to his reign like the rest.

Eliesse felt her chest become warm and throat dry. _Her men were gone._ She sucked in a shallow breath for fear that anything louder would tremble out like a child. Perhaps Uncle were right and the old lion had lured her here to end her existence, once and for all.

She reached slowly for her water cup, concentrating tirelessly on keeping her tremors a secret and hand steady and proud. "I assume the King has requested my appearance to the royal court, yes?" She spoke evenly, fear hidden and cun boasting. Tywin frowned, trying to read the indifference that lay sprawl on the child's face.

"Yes. News has spread wide and far of your arrival in the westernlands. The walls whisper your names, your heritage and of your beauty. We needn't hide it. You are a Lannister, my child. They wish to know if the daughter of Dorne hisses or roars" The old lion mused, waving his ale about smugly. He leaned forward, a cold glint in his eye that sent an involuntary shudder up Eliesse's spine. She fared, eyes glaring back. "Do you hiss, my child? Or do you roar?"

"I suppose we shall both find out" She smirked, sipping her water, eyes staring back as cold and stoic.

—

The King's road was long, and barren. Lord Lannister had taken it upon himself to ride beside Eliesse after she refused to be escorted by carriage. He drowned her ears in insufferable chatter about the history of the Lannister house and _Lan the Clever..._ She trodded slowly, lips pursed and eyes low, observing the green stretch that lay before her of central Westeros. The air was warm and slightly dry. A few of the castle maidens and low folk had whispered of the long summer and treacherous yieldment it brought for their crops. _This is warm? God's be good none of these imbeciles see a Dornish_ _ **winter**_ _._

Her mind became adrift with thoughts of her uncle and even her bastard cousins. Treacherous and as dreadful they'd been, they were the only cousin she _wanted_ to know. Tywin boasted relentlessly of his daughter the Queen's children, _his_ grandchildren, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Eliesse nodded, uninterested in his brood.

"Ah, at last…"

Eliesse glanced up, gazing at the tremendous castle and cascading buildings, encased in large, white walls. Her mouth hung open aloof, as she drank in the noble and proud stone walls. Even though it was still in the distance, it's borders treaded so long and vast that Eliesse imagined no end to its barriers. "It's...so big" she breathed, eyes glazed over in wonder. Even in her dreams, the capital never transpired this massive or grand.

She halted her horse and drew back her cloak's hood. "It's...incredible" she breathed, becoming lost once more in its valiant beauty.

"Aye my child...come, there be much road ahead of us"

Eliesse and the Lannister escort continued up the Kings Road until dirt turned to bright cobblestone, intricately designed with pieces of Earth far too highly and precious to be left for stepping. For a moment, her paranoid mind ran once more to the illusion that waiting inside those Godly gates was an army of mercenaries who would rip her from her steed, publically maim and take turns defiling her before stringing her up by her neck indefinitely.

 _Quiet, foolish girl._

After what seemed like an eternity of winding cobblestone, Eliesse found herself face to face with large, stag-bannered gates. Her breath halted in strained lungs, the only thought running through her mind... _murderers._

" _Open the gate, Lord Tywin approaches!"_ She heard a man shout from beyond the drawbridge. Almost immediately, the lurching chains and old wood rang, as the large door to Kings Landing opened slowly.

Eliesse trotted slowly beside Tywin, watching as the common folk watched silently, dirt besieged and wreaking of sickness and soiled linen. They glowered at the Lannister army with resentful eyes.

Eliesse supposed the Sacking of King Landing lay fresh at their minds, still. Much, she was aware at not only the hateful gazes, but the curious ones fresh on her face.

" _Who be the wench?"_

" _She boasts Lannister colors…"_

" _That's Tyrion Lannister's bastard!"_

" _You idiot, she be high born!_ _ **Eliessia Martell's heir!**_ "

" _Her looks live true to the songs…"_

" _ALL HAIL THE TIGER OF CASTERLY ROCK!"_

The crowd burst into a fit of cheer and bashment, as they threw rice and flour towards the trotting Lannister army. Eliesse's heart thundered hot in her chest as she stared bewildered at the suddenly brash folk. A man jumped in front of Eliesse's horse, dropping to his knees pleadingly. "Sweet Eliesse of Dorne, you return reincarnated!"

Eliesse braced as her horse startled, throwing its front legs up in angst. Without a second thought, a Lannister soldier cut the man down in blood still hot. Eliesse flinched as sputters of hot blood sprayed her face. She gagged, as a drop landed on her lip enough so for her to taste familiar rust and salt.

Tywin glanced smugly over his shoulder to the wide eyed child. He smirked indifferently…

"Welcome home, little dove"

—

" _You stand before King Robert, first of his name, king of the andals, rhoynar and first men. What say ye?"_

Eliesse swallowed small, turning to her Lord grandfather who watched smugly, fixed in a high lord seat in the Royal Court. He nodded knowingly to her, watching curiously as she bowed.

"I am Eliesse of Dorne. Daughter of Eliessia Martell and Tyrion Lannister. I pledge my loyalty and allegiance to the one, true king, Robert Baratheon. It be a privilege to be in your presence, Your Grace" Eliesse hung her head low, as she bowed upon one knee. _Murderer!_ Her heart screamed painfully as she pledged herself dutifully.

 _Play your part, Eliesse. You must camouflage yourself._

The Royal Court fell deafeningly quiet and still. Eliesse could hear the blood pounding behind her ears as it rushed to her lowered head. Her mouth became parched with silence as she tried to muster enough spit to wet its pathetic plains. Was this the moment she would be beheaded?

"Yes...lady Eliesse...daughter to Eliessia Martell...cut down in her own blood at Kings Landing after birthing you…" Robert Baratheon spoke hoarsely, his voice ominous and low.

"A true tragedy, to say the least!" He suddenly boomed, rising from his throne. "Eliessia's death be a true casualty of war...an instance of being in the wrong place at the wrong time...perhaps even mistaken identity...The Crown beckons to your sorrow. It is my hope that you would spare forgiveness for a war that took the life of your mother whilst you still suckled" He slowly stalked towards the small girl who's head remained lowered. Eliesse squeezed her eyes shut for fear if they opened, the burning rage that engulfed her heart would swallow her sense and leave her dead and her mission lost.

"Rise, girl!" Robert's voice boomed once more. Eliesse rose slowly to stare into the eyes and face of the infamous _usurper._ His eyes were cold and sharp upon a face red and fat with merriment and drinking. She stared back innocently, though she swore the disgust that rose in her belly would give way in her golden eyes.

He swatted her on the back. "There, now girl. Welcome home. The Crown welcomes you, as does your father…" Robert turned to the Royal

Court, his eyes losing their amusement and being replaced with confusion. "Where be the wretched _imp?_ Too proud to attend his own daughters homecoming, aye?" He boomed with laughter earning a flurry of chorused amusement from fearful and obedient sheep. "No matter! The feast will commence without the little beast!"

Swords and staffs began thundering and shields clanking in celebration of the one _true_ King. The royal doors to the feasting chamber opened and the scent of feasts and wine filled the great court, announcing celebration.

—

Eliesse watched tiredly as the King drank and ate until his face grew large and red. The Queen, and her aunt, Cersei Lannister watched boringly as he eyed young kitchen wrenches and called out to whores. She turned her head and sipped her wine quietly, the wretched glint in her eye never faltering.

Eliesse watched how the King watched the whores, how the Queen watched the King, and how Ser Jamie, her uncle, watched the Queen. A fleeting glance passed through them, some would've called it adoration…

 _Had she imagined that?_

Eliesse rose from her seat at the table and walked before the Queen and King. "Your grace, my Queen...I beg you pardon me, but the journey from Dorne to Casterly Rock, and Casterly Rock to Kings Landing, has left me withered and in need of rest" She curtsied quickly, making note of the Queen's glare upon her.

"You are dismissed" Cersei spoke proudly, turning her head from the girl once more. She had only rested her eyes upon her for an hour and hated her already, young child or not. _The spawn of the wretched imp,_ She mocked in her head, though hateful, could not deny her beauty. She was bewildered at how something so radiant could come from someone so ugly and disfigured.

Eliesse internally cringed but quickly left the great halls before Robert could take notice through his drinking and protest her departure.

Eliesse pushed through the large doors, finding a squire. "Please escort me to my chambers, good man" She beckoned with a sweet smile. The boy, young, blushed and nodded quickly while extending an elbow.

He led Eliesse through more winding corridors that she didn't bother to take notice of. Her mind was afloat elsewhere...perhaps somewhere in Dorne, in a sweet breeze mixed of jasmine and thistle.

"Here you are M'lady" the boy bowed, quickly scurrying off down the hall into sure darkness once more. Eliesse sighed deeply, closing her eyes. _She'd live to see another day._

She pushed open the doors to her chamber quietly. The room was lit with a candle already, warm and bright. She breathed relieved in the familiarity. Thara. "Thara, could you run me a bath? I wreak of usurper and wine"

"I imagine that must be quite a atrocious combination...I wonder how our fair King sports it regularly...Alas, I'm sure the men and women around him never notice or complain. Perhaps that's why it troubles you so...the scent must be so foreign and troubling…" A man's voice said from her chair in the corner of the room. Eliesse spun around startled and bewildered, eyes wide for a man she hadn't noticed.

"My apologies, sweet girl. This is probably quite rude of me...to sneak into your chambers like this in the middle of the night. Well...actually...I should be apologizing again for not being there when you entered the Royal Court. I thought myself better prepared if I had a few glasses of fine Dornish wine before we met...I'm sorry. How rude of me, again. My name...is Tyrion Lannister".

—

Bare with me, the next chapter will have Jon in it! This back story is necessary to understanding the sequence of events to come! ~ RL


	4. Chapter 4

"Tyrion...Lannister" Eliesse breathed, her heart a flurry of anxiety, sadness and...disbelief. For an entire week whilst she sailed the great Dorne sea, that name was the only thing etched red and aggravated in her mind. Searing, _burning..._ a festering wound on her heart that no logical excuse or explanation the man could give would heal.

"I suppose I am not what you had expected….When people spoke of the _imp_ and _dwarf_ of Casterly Rock, I'm sure you imagined I was just of short stature...this must truly be disappointing" Tyrion spoke eloquently, sipping his wine casually. He peered at the young girl before him, _his daughter,_ trying to gage the look in her gold eyes. "In fact," He chuckled sheepishly "A few knights of the Kingsguard had snickered about _the beautiful Dornish Lannister who was a woman almost sculpted but had some_ _ **growing**_ _to do..._ I will say, I was quite worried the God's blessed...Or perhaps _cursed_ you in your father's likeness and not your sweet mother's" Tyrion shrugged inwardly, feeling uncomfortable in the deafening silence. "Do speak, girl" he beckoned, tipping his glass towards her.

Eliesse shook her head. "I'm afraid I've lost my voice, it would seem. How did you get in here? Who let you in?" She cocked a proud brow at the strange man, while glancing ever so slowly around the room. Perhaps she was expecting to find Thara's body lay askew, bloody and throat spilled across her floor...what could she expect? She hadn't known the man for more than a few moments and he had already proved himself to be quite intrusive…

"Twelve years you've never known my face or voice and that's the first question you have" Tyrion smirked, taking another large draw of his wine. "I suppose there could be worst questions"

"Like why in the seven hell's did you abandon me? Or was the whore selection of Dorne not as appeasing? That's what you do, yes? Whore and drink wine. At least that's what the folklore and songs sing" There she was. _There_ was Tyrion Lannister's daughter.

Tyrion frowned, another gulp of wine going down harsh and thick. "You Dorne women...you waste no time. The look in your eye…" Tyrion hopped off the chair he had been sitting and observing Eliesse from and walked towards her.

Eliesse stared back, unwavering and proud. Yes, it was true that he was small... _astonishingly so_...but the jest in his walk and the way he spoke so fluidly...it was as though he stood six feet from the ground. A true lion. "Under the candlelight, I could swear by all the God's, new and old, it is my mischief in your eye...but then you frown and your nose scrunches just like your mother's. And then I see that you truly are her incarnate. The songs be true and the God's good, it would seem".

Eliesse stared at Lord Tyrion, her face washed of anything kind and ridden with a sorrow she refused to let reach her eyes. She did not want this strange man to see the pain she carried for a love she's never felt. The simplest mention of a mother never known, yet a love searched for in what seemed like a never ending lifetime, was enough to break the proud girl down into something more recognizable in a child of ten and two.

She dropped to her knees in front of Tyrion, weak from a sore heart and ailing mind. She was deprived of a mother and father's touch, and though her uncle tried his best, he could never quite reach the girl's heart. No, it was left on an old merchant ship, likely abandoned and riddled of rot and seaweed, twelve years in the past. Her heart was eons away in a life she never knew but wondered of from the time she was a young girl and heard one of her cousins say "mother" for the first time. _What was that word?_ And why could she pronounce it but never truly understand it?

"Why" She half choked and sobbed, "Why did you send me away? Did you not love me? Did you not _love_ my _mother_?" Eliesse closed her eyes as she always did, head high, searching for something in the air or skies above, unbeknownst to those around her.

She did what she knew best to console her damaged heart...she would dream. As a young girl, her mind would float to summer skies, hot peaked suns, crisp heat in still winds, the smell of sand and oasis... _a hummingbird ravaging the flowers in the Sunspear gardens overtook her sensory, grasping her ear with quiet shrills from the window._ She'd stare, lost in its tranquil beauty. Sometimes she swore she could open her eyes and be suspended in the skies too, wings drumming and thundering a hundred beats a second, zipping through lush greens and prim floral bed. She soared high, _higher_ in the sky, forgetting her somber figure at the quiet windowsill she thought she dreamt from. She would awake on the floor, body calming from an ecstasy she couldn't recall. Thara would hush the girl, begging her to tell no one of her dream.

Tyrion leered down at the girl, mouth dry despite his constant wetting throughout the day and night.

For the first time in the strange Lannister's life, he peered down on someone _else._ His hand trembled as he raised it quietly. He knew a reassuring touch was not what the girl needed. No, what she needed was love and it's well had ran dry long ago. No gesture of kindness or love would quench its thirst. He dropped his hand silently once more as the young girl sobbed into lonely hands.

"Ellie...I...I loved your mother _fiercely._ I loved... _love_ you just as much, if not more. I know that it sounds like horse shit coming from a wretched dwarf that cast you away... _I did what I thought..._ I just wanted...young Ellie, I _pray,_ with all my heart, God's be true...I pray you never have to send your love away for fear it would be taken from you. And if the day comes, I pray you have the strength to fulfill duty before love".

—

Eliesse woke to the quiet opening and closing of her chamber' door. She stirred in plush, bear pelts and furs, stretching timidly. "Thara?" She called meekly, hoping it was truly her this time and not her father, Tyrion Lannister.

"Yes, my flower. Are you hungry? I have brought you cheeses, fruit and porridge".

Eliesse sighed heavily with relief washing through her veins. "Yes, please". She rubbed her eyes tiredly, thoughts of her encounter last night with her _father_ flooding her already full mind.

He had been kind...kinder than she thought he would be, or were capable of anything circulating Lannister blood. She remembered crying, and Tyrion listening silently... apologizing every so often...every other sip of wine. He never disagreed. He knew he had forsaken her. The imp knew honor, _he knew his deed had suffered the girl,_ though she wasn't quite sure he had intent to resolve it.

 _He left her chambers when a sliver of morn sliced across the night's sky. "I should go. A young girl needs her beauty sleep, though I'm sure it'd do you nothing more than what you have been blessed with...and there is sure to be an abundance of wine at the feast still partaking. We will speak soon, Ellie"_

 _She had nodded quickly, turning to blow out the candle at her bedside. "Goodnight...Tyr...Fa…"_

" _Tyrion will do. Though I hope one day, I will prove my keep in your presence and earn the title of father. Goodnight lady Eliesse of Dorne...and welcome home"_

"My flower, what has happened?!"

Thara's voice sprang Eliesse from her rambling thoughts. She tore away the bed pelts revealing a ominous red stain on the crisp, white sheets.

"I-I don't know" Eliesse jumped quickly, staring at the red spots that were littered where she lay. She leapt from the bed, staring at the linens and wondering if someone had attacked her in her sleep and she hadn't known. _A mercenary in my chambers…_

Thara glanced at Eliesse, her eyes softening as she stared at the young girl whose legs bared silent red streaks and night clothes a growing red stain. "My flower, you have blossomed into a woman, true" she smiled softly, crossing the room to cup the confused girl's cheek.

"What do you mean? Someone's tried to kill me!" Eliesse whispered, her heart frantic in a frail chest.

Thara laughed sweetly, grasping the girl's hand and walking her over to her chamber's bath. She began warming the water dropping intriguing oils she'd never seen before, lest smelt. She turned to Eliesse, softly tugging the girl's night garment over her head and rolling it into a discreet ball. No one needn't know of the newly blossomed woman.

"You have had your first blood, my flower. A girl you are no more. Today, you are a woman and the rest of your days, true".

—

Eliesse ate silently in her bedroom garden. The sun shone bright above as she picked boringly at the grapes and cheeses before her. _This is not warrior food_ , she thought to herself biting into a dry grape. She imagined eating honey-hog and the tender meat of prickly pear...all the flavors of an island too far to taste.

She stood quickly, irritated suddenly. _She wanted to spar, and train and fight._ But there was no fighting for girls—no, _women_ , here in this stupid Capital. Still, the jittery girl stood from her chair and began practicing her footwork, one hand behind her back, the other grasping a faux steel.

"Who taught you that _nonsense_?" A muffled laugh spoke from her doorway. Eliesse turned quickly, meeting eyes with the infamous King Slayer. "Is that what they teach you women down in Dorne? A fancy two-step? You'd be chopped down in mere seconds on a battlefield"

Eliesse huffed, her olive face turning an usual shade of red. She had heard whispers of Jamie, the lion of Lannister, and his roaring ego. Though, she hoped she'd never have to endure it. A grimace basked upon her angelic features, poisoning its innocence. "What would you teach me instead? How to _kill_ my enemies with their back _turned_ , perhaps?" She sneered.

Jamie's eyebrows rose in amusement. _She was truly Tyrion's daughter._ "Such a mouth on such a fine lady...it's unbecoming you know" he smirked, walking down the few steps to where the agitated girl stood.

"Women here are taught to stand behind men and answer with _yes please_ and _no thank you_. I am not a capital woman. I am a warrior of Dorne"

"You are a _child_ and smart be you'd start behaving as such" Jamie winked finally coming to stand in front of the beauty. He peered down on her, losing himself for a moment in aggravated gold eyes and cherry bitten lips. He could vaguely see the outline in her cheeks where two dimple stood, proud and boastful when the time came. To think this was the same babe he nearly cut down The Mountain for.

 _He remembered bursting through Elia's chambers, her bloodied corpse lay across the floor, remnants of her children skulls plastered on red walls. Eliessia lay motionless in a corner, shallow breath rising and falling from a butchered bosom, skin soaked red where olive skin use to boast...each breath farther from the last. Her dress was ripped up the seam and under clothes absent, her eyes shut no longer willful to open. "El...Ellie...b...be...bed" she choked, blood spilling from innocent lips. A soft cry from a weaved basket on the bed captured his attention._ _ **Please**_ _, his mind screamed. He rushed over, swooping up the unharmed and pathetic babe from blood soaked blankets. He turned, rushing back to the withering Eliessia who's ever hot, russet skin had turned unnaturally cool and blue. He knelt to her side, one great arm grasping the dying woman and other securing her babe. "I...lo...ve...you...Eliesse...Ty...rion…my lo…"_

"I am _not_ a child. I am a woman, and I _will_ learn to be a warrior like my mother and her's before" Eliesse seethed, her eyes ablaze. Jamie frowned, silently glancing around him. Her scowl, it reminded him of his brother's great love. She was rough in voice and gesture but soft and gentle in touch and spirit. Yes, this young girl was all Eliessia Martell. Fierce and bold. She would be a warrior like her mother, no doubt.

"If you must, you will. As your uncle, I will show you a different side of battling...one with swords, and class...not spear and barbarism. Only at dawn. Two days a week. Nothing more. _You will not breathe a word to anyone_. Do you understand, Ellie?"

Eliesse dropped her arms and her proud brows unfurrowed as she stared bewildered at the King Slayer. _He wanted to help_ _ **her?**_ But why? Perhaps, an opportunity lay before her...if she could learn the techniques of these Westeros warriors, it might prove an advantage when she lay siege to their houses.

"Alright. Dawn. Two days a week" she agreed, sitting once more at her small table. She loosely picked a grape from its vine and ate it, never once breaking gaze with Jamie Lannister.

"Wonderful. But the real reason I have come, is the King has requested your presence, sweet niece".

—

Jamie led Eliesse down a cobblestone corridor, his chainmail supplying the only sound between them. Eliesse glanced at the King Slayer curiously.

"What does the King want of me?" She mused, watching Jamie's unwavering and handsome face never falter or lay clue to any intent. He shrugged honestly, glancing down at his niece.

"I don't know of the King's business. I just watch his ass...which is quite the job...considering its grand size, that is" He smirked that devilish smirked that maidens swooned about, though being a man of the Kingsguard would mean he would take no wife and bear no heirs... _why would anyone condemn themselves_ _ **willingly**_ _to a life of solitude and loneliness?_ the curious girl thought.

A rare and small smile etched the girl's usual stoically beautiful face, though she quickly turned to hide it. But it was too late, the King Slayer had already saw and silently smiled himself, for he couldn't understand the strange affection he held for her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was his only brother's daughter, and a brother he loved dearly despite his twin sister's distaste. Her witt, silver tongue and brazen demeanor was everything he admired of his brother, and his daughter surely carried the smallest Lannister in her spirit.

The two Lannisters reached the end of a dimly lit corridor. Jamie thrust open old, wooden doors to a small chamber that held a large table and many chairs. Eliesse imagined this was the castle's council room. "They will be here soon, have a seat in the meantime" Jamie gestured the girl to a chair. She hesitated, but obliged nonetheless, sitting just as the chamber doors opened once more.

In stormed Robert Baratheon and a few older men, all presumably his council, no less. Robert was vigorously waving his hands, his fat face red in frustration. "Ah, fuck them all. Bloody leeches they be!" He boomed.

Eliesse stared inquisitively. She never flinched nor quivered at the great voice of King Baratheon like many had. She folded a leg over another, her hand clasped gently...waiting for her presence to be known.

Jamie watched Eliesse, bemused at her cunning attitude. He admired her, truly. Kings Landing whispered her name around every corner, street and hall. _The Tiger of Casterly Rock...Eliessia Martell reborn...the Viperess of Dorne..._ He wondered for a moment how his beloved sister, the Queen, felt about the chatter. He remembered standing with her at the Red Keep's balcony as the Lannister soldiers and their father entered the castle, little Ellie of Dorne at side. " _Dornish whore"_ was all Cersei spoke before disappearing back into her chambers, adjusting her disheveled dress. To be jealous of a girl... _silly,_ he thought.

"Aye, Ellie of Dorne...thank you for joining us old men as we bicker. Come here, girl. Sit beside me" Robert spoke, eyeing the young girl inappropriately. Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chainmail, noting the King's change in demeanor. The King's eyes on his young niece irritated him.

Ellie stood from her seat quietly, briskly walking to a more invasive seat beside the King. His red, fat face gleamed at her, a hunger in his eye unfamiliar to a girl of her age.

Robert eyed the girl curiously. No doubt, her beauty was unmatched in all the Seven Kingdoms, not even his _bitch_ wife could contest. Though the King's hunger seemed to never be satisfied, he reminded himself that she was still a young girl. _Perhaps in a few years,_ he scoffed to himself.

"Ellie, how are you liking life in the capital? No Dorne, say the least...but I am sure it proves a worthy second look, aye?" Robert cooed, eyeing the girl carefully.

 _You fat fool. "_ The Capital has been gracious. I am very much at home here, thank you" Eliesse answered sweetly. Robert smiled, triumphant. It didn't take much to appease the fat, gluttonous King.

"Good!" He boomed suddenly, earning a few jests from the other old men, in return. "Ellie, it be true you're whole life you've only known Dorne...now, you are here in the capital, but there lie a whole other side of the country undiscovered to ye…"

Eliesse listened tiredly, though she made sure to disguise her sleek expression in interest. She wished the fat fool would just _get on_ with whatever he has summoned her for. The banter back and forth for show of these _dying_ men were beginning to irritate the young girl.

"Eliesse, this is my hand...Jon Arryn…" Robert gestured to a man, white haired but kind faced. He shon the girl a quiet smile. "Jon leaves tomorrow for the North...my good friend— _brother_ , Eddard Stark mans the vast, cold lands as the Warden...it be a goodwill trip to discuss the northern wall, _wildlings..._ things that go bump in the night girl" He boomed once more with laughter. "Nothing concerning a young girl like you...though...I am sending you with him. It would do your burnt skin some good to see what lies beyond your desert home and the capital and experience a true cold. The north is our last border...you come from a proud house, duty be you know your country and all its walls"

Eliesse stared at Robert, confused and shocked. _Another trip?_ Perhaps _this_ would be the attempt on the young girl's life. Lure her away from home...somewhere desolate where her screams couldn't be heard…

"I shall start packing" Eliesse answered, the voices in her mind screaming in protest. "Many thanks for the opportunity, your grace" she quickly rose, bowing. Robert nodded, dismissing the girl. Eliesse wasted no time scurrying as fast as her legs would take her through the chamber doors.

Jamie quickly followed the young girl, sensing her fright behind calloused demeanor. "El—

"You _knew_! And you didn't even warn me! Was this the plan, all along? Bring me from my safe home in Dorne to sentence me to the north? To _kill me_ along the way?" Eliesse yelled at Jamie. Though the young girl fought, tears welded in the corners of her eyes. _How could she be so naive?_ A goodwill trip? Horse shit.

"Ellie, I had _no inclination_ that the King would send you North with Lord Arryn...besides, you are not to stay there! You are visiting...only to see the Northern lands and return...you are ma—

"Where is my father?" Eliesse interjected, unwilling to listen to the King Slayer's rambling any longer. Jamie sighed deeply, shaking his head at Eliesse's uncontainable fire.

"I will send for him"

—

Tyrion Lannister waddled down the halls at a remarkably quick pace, even for his impish self. Servants and wenches watched him, bewildered at his eagerness. Jamie had called for him, through an old merchant of the castle. " _Eliesse leaves for the north tomorrow"_ was all he said. It was enough to send the drunken dwarf into a flurry of anger and confusion. _No one had said anything to him of the matter._

He burst through Eliesse's chambers, finding the girl sitting quietly on her bed. Her handmaiden was stroked her soft curls, whispering sweet nothings in her ear of reassurance. "Eliesse, what is the meaning of this" he began, coming to the girl's side.

Eliesse glanced up, her eyes dry, but red from tears she dared not speak of. She shook her head, defeated once more. "The King is sending me with Jon Arryn to the north...he has a goodwill trip, and our Grace believes it would be appropriate for me to accompany him, as the north is vastly unknown to my Dorne self. _A Lannister duty_ " she scoffed, shaking her head once more.

Tyrion watched silently, lips pressed for fear of speaking something unbecoming of the King or unhelpful to his sweet daughter. "How long" He demanded quietly.

"Two moons and a bit we will be gone" Thara spoke. She ran her fingers once more through Eliesse's damp curls. "I will accompany her. And no one will _kill you_ , my flower. Not while I lay awake".

Eliesse rose from her bed, walking slowly to the terrace doors of her room. She watched the sunset breathe strange, orange wisp across the floor and wondered if it would be the last sunset she'd ever see. _Why would he want me to go North with this strange man,_ Eliesse thought, her arms folded tightly over a frail chest. "I must begin packing...Lord Tyrion, I will say my farewells in the morn" Eliesse said bluntly, walking over to her chest. Tyrion and Thara exchanged an indifferent look, unsure of the girl's sudden eagerness. Perhaps the capital had truly brought her mad…

"Eliesse…" Tyrion began, walking over to the young girl, he stared at her as she began tearing dress from dress...searching for something that seemed to not be there.

"Father, I am fine. _Please._ We will say our farewells tomorrow" She smiled suddenly, though the gesture never met her gold eyes. Tyrion retracted, glancing once more to Thara who simply nodded. _She will be fine,_ she whispered with her eyes. Tyrion pressed his lips to a firm line.

"Very well...I will see you in the morning. Send for me as you need...goodnight, Ellie" He bid as he walked briskly to the girl's chamber doors. He glanced once more over his shoulder, finding his daughter uninterrupted from her packing. Quietly, he slipped away before she could notice.

—

A loud horn thundered across the Royal Courtyard, signaling the departure of the Royal Guard and ambassadors of the Crown.

Eliesse rested quiet upon her gifted steed from her grandfather. "M'lady, I wish you'd reconsider riding on horseback. They say the trip north is exhausting and long...I'd imagine it'd do no good to a growing girl's back…" Thara whispered, whisking the last of the girl's belongings into the royal carriage.

"I am fine. I like to look at the lands…" She mumbled, staring off into a distance she couldn't fathom. She watched silently as the Royal Guard readied themselves for the long trip North. The faint feeling of doom never left the girl's loins, as she watched cotton-mouthed at the folk before her.

"Ellie" a familiar voice called to her from the ground.

She peered down seeing none other than her father, Lord Tyrion. "Come to wish me safe travels?" She beckoned, never once meeting his gaze. Tyrion sighed, his heart trembling in sure sadness. Truly the girl believed he had some hand in sending her north with this strange man, Jon Arryn...alas, though he had no hand, he still felt as though he hadn't said enough to protest her departure. Perhaps that was where she held the short man guilty.

"Yes...I wanted to ask you...if you'd write me, whenever the chance is granted...I want to know you are safe" Tyrion spoke dryly, staring off into the distance. Eliesse pursed her lips, unwavered at his request but willing to oblige.

"I will".

Without another word spared, the Royal Guard departed the capital into vast nothingness. Eliesse peered over her shoulder once they were outside the great city's borders, waiting to see who watched her departure. Surely, it was the King, red faced and belligerent, the Queen, stoic, and the two Lannister brothers...a humorous uncle with his heart tucked neatly away under gold chainmail and a slightly alcoholic, adoring father.

She captured the image in her mind and tucked it away for safe keeping with the others.

—

Three weeks.

The cold air nipped at shivering fingers as Eliesse gripped the reins on her steed. Though no snow had fallen, the bite of the North lay swift and deep to unfamiliar skin. The knuckles of Eliesse's fingers bore red and cracked, her fingertips glowing oddly white from the rigid grip she held on her horse.

In the weeks she had ridden, the girl never once cried out in contest of northern Westeros' conditions. " _I'm fine",_ she'd reply to a suggestion of a thicker cloak. " _It's too heavy"_ She'd scoff at a squire's quick offering of a bear pelt.

The camp would whisper her name lowly...

" _Stupid Dornish wench. Pride will get ye killed up here..."_

" _...She be dead in another day or so..."_

" _...Let the wolves 'ave at 'er...one less mouth…"_

Still, the young girl would unwaveringly ride, head proudly held high, back arched, a jest in her gallop that only a Lannister could hold.

Sometimes she'd catch herself daydreaming of home. Isles of hot rock and warm air would swooned her thoughts, the sound of gulls and hummingbirds would trickle about her far mind…

But quickly, her mind would return to the cold north, by the squawk of strange, large black birds that would soar ominously overhead.

Lord Jon Arryn often withdrew from the Royal Carriage to join the quiet girl up front of the convoy. On a crisp dawn, he trotted up to the girl who had managed to venture nearly two acres ahead of the party. "Beauty, isn't it?" He spoke softly, eyeing the young girl who's cherry bitten lips looked unusually pale this early morn.

"Perhaps. _Beauty_ wouldn't be the first thing I'd say about this vast wasteland" Eliesse replied cooly, eyebrows furrowed and focused on the King's Road ahead. Shallow breaths moistened around her olive face, blowing hallow air white in mist before her.

The once intricate cobblestone of central Westeros had turned to a strange, barren dirt road the farther it lead north. There was no sign of life breathed upon the gloomy road. Dark grey skies grimaced at the girl from above as she silently glanced from thick brush to strange thisled trees. The northern countryside was strangely green, despite the harsh, frost bitten air that circulated its lands. She closed her eyes again for a moment, daydreaming one more about a warm island, days, weeks, _months_ away. She smiled, imagining the oasis of a sun that seemed to never set, and suddenly, she was warmed.

"Aye, the north isn't for every lad and lady...northerners...a different folk but true no least.

A good friend of mine, _a son I would even say,_ is Warden of the north. Lord Eddard Stark...good man. He eagerly awaits our arrival" Lord Arryn smiled fondly, his gaze resting high in the sky that yawned and blinked soft wisps of morning sun across it. The babble of early rising critters broke the soft day, announcing to the Royal escort that it was almost time to break fast.

Jon Arryn glanced at the girl, noting the deep purple bags under her eyes. "You should rest, girl. I haven't seen you sleep in the Royal Carriage or camp...what ales you?" He mused, eyes fixated on Eliesse's swaying figure.

Truth be told, sleep evaded the girl from the moment she stepped foot from the Dornish vessel that brought her to these strange lands. Her mind was a constant bustle of noise, people...fixations with smells that were foreign to her nose. At night when she closed her eyes, she'd hear the faint sound of nocturnal creatures pestering in the night. She'd wake, tuned in on the new sounds virgin to her ears. Sometimes she'd find the culprit of the screeching or chirping...most nights, she'd turn over in uncomfortably plush quilts and will her mind to turn off. _Please_ , she would beg, wishing for a darkness that would come but never last.

"Homesick, I suppose" she answered quietly, silencing her aching heart. Arryn watched her, his expression unreadable but pleasant nonetheless.

"It shall pass, girl".

A trumpet sounded from behind Eliesse and the great lord, stopping their pace. Curiously, the two glanced behind them to find that the convoy had suddenly halted. Lord Arryn furrowed his eyebrows confused. "What be the meaning of this…"

Eliesse pressed her lips together, for fear that any separation of the once soft, supple plains would leave the girl's teeth chattering away and laying truth to her current condition. She would not cry here, no. These harsh men needn't know the troubles that plagued her mind. Her mind jumped silently to the pestering thoughts that besieged her...

She was cold. These Dornish dresses and cloaks proved no match for the North's icy bite.

She was hungry, and adamantly refused most sustenance offered to her by squires, wenches, or even Thara.

She was _tired._ Sleep evaded the young girl intentionally, as she was afraid to close her eyes for fear they'd be shut forever by the hand of a mercenary sent by Robert Baratheon himself. Paranoia, hunger and cold turned Eliesse mad and bitter. A girl her age should not hold as much contempt and sadness as her heart housed. But she was no typical girl, to say the least. A coherent thought could barely form amongst the plains of her usually sharp mind...still, she trudged on in silence, unwilling to speak of her woes.

Though the convoy had stopped, Eliesse continued onward on the path. Her mind a flurry of wonder, fear and desperation. All she dreamt of was warmth and food...the cold bared its own type of oasis...one of frost and misery. She closed her eyes, drowning in it, feeling weak and discouraged.

 _A strange russell in the trees beckoned to the girl._

Eliesse halted her steed, glancing in the direction of the strange noise. Her eyes narrowed curiously as she listened closely to a whisper that flirted along her frostbitten ears.

 _A crack and soft whimper arose from the thick brush and tree lining._

Eliesse slowly dismantled from her horse, tugging her thin cloak rougher against her frail and cold body. The cold bit through her shoes from the cracked earth below, nipping at her toes eagerly.

Still, the the girl crept forward, the strange noise calling to her and enticing a quiet instinct in her veins.

Far behind, voices from the convoy could be heard, though they became obsolete against the howl of the north. Eliesse stalked on, desperate to know what called to her senses beyond the green brush.

Timidly, she watched as two small bear cubs prodded silently from the trees. Eliesse's eyes widened in bewilderment. _She had never seen such a creature._ "Here now…" she whispered, extending a cold arm forward from the meek comfort of her cloak. "...I won't hurt you".

The cubs glanced at her inquisitively, steps slowing to a cautious prowl. Their noses were raised as they sniffed the air and scent coming from the odd girl. Eliesse smiled sincerely, creeping closer and closer.

The girl was unaware of the two yellow eyes that watched her every step... _The danger she was in,_ was unknown to her.

Lord Arryn glanced up from the chattering of one of his navigators, looking to the place he had left the shivering Dorne girl.

But he could not find her.

He turned completely, arm raising to rest on his sword. He narrowed his eyes, frantically scanning them across the stoic meadow. The northern wind shrieked at him, almost mockingly.

The navigator beckoned to the old man in attempt to regain his attention, though Lord Arryn raised his hand slowly, silencing him. His eyes never left the area in which he and Eliesse had rode to alone.

His eyes widened when he seen the girl on the edge of the brush, fingertips mere moments away from brushing the snout of two _grizzly bear cubs_. " _Eliesse, don't!"_ He yelled, withdrawing his sword immediately in angst.

Eliesse turned to glance at the suddenly frantic Hand of the King, the confusion washing across her face in low tides. _What on earth was he yelling about?_

A loud crash in the trees snapped the girl's mind forward. Before her mind could process, a large, brown animal burst into her vision, stunning the girl and causing her to stumble back. The large beast roared at her, the sound grotesque and aweing. Her ears rang in sheer deafness of the animal's blood chilling call.

Eliesse stared wide eyed at only what she could presume to be the _very_ angry mother of these two cubs. Needle points of ice surged through her once warm veins and the color in her face dissipated to a chilling white for the first time in her life. Her head swooned and heart thundered so loud in her chest, she swore the animal could hear its cries, beckoning it forward...

Eliesse through the haze of adrenaline and fear could vaguely make out the sound of clanking chainmail as guards on steed raced to her.

Thara too, began running to the girl in hopes she'd reach her before he beastly animal took a chunk out of her neck or belly. She internally cursed herself for not being firm on the girl and confining her to the safety of the carriage, let alone allowing her to stray so far in foreign lands.

The animal took an ominous step towards the young girl who retracted instantly. Her eyes forward and frantic, she watched as it bared a slicing set of teeth. It snapped at her, head low and searching for the perfect target to lay siege on Eliesse's small body. Suddenly, it rose on hind legs, another lurching roar emitting deep from his great belly. Eliesse stared back, breath halted and heart trembling. She watched terrifyingly at the beast, her eyes scanning over the gigantic plains of the great animal's form. She slowly met its eyes in panic, as the glowing yellow orbs engulfed her own.

She stared into the beast's eyes, feeling a heat build in her chest. She trembled silently, wondering if she was having a heart attack. _Get on with it, then..._ she begged her body, hoping she'd be dead before those snapping jaws had locked on her. The beast stared back, eyes focused. Her stare reached deeply beyond her, she could see the shimmer of yellow in the bear's eyes, the reflection of her own trembling body...and the retraced pupil that _**suddenly**_ dilated…

And it was as though she melted into a strange heat, an explosion of unforeseen might. Her own eyes darkened in the scape around her. Her once frigid and weak body glowed suddenly hot and fierce as her eyes snapped back open.

She felt like she was suspended in air from the ground, frozen, whilst her body lay encased in a strange heat. Her arms were heavy with a burliness she'd never known. She whipped her head around furiously, trying to shake the _heat_ and _heaviness_ that suddenly besieged her once pathetic frame. She looked around, staring at the two cubs who stood to the side, ears back and trembling as much as she. Her vision was sharp, and strange, the thundering in her head never diminishing. She wondered if this is what a heart attack was…

She looked forward, finding _**herself**_ , motionless on the ground before her. _She was dead?_ The beast had ripped her so fast and true she hadn't felt it. Her chest yearned and burned suddenly as she backed away slowly, heart hammering so fast in her chest she'd thought it'd give out. But what did it matter? _She was_ _ **dead**_.

 _Uncle._

 _Thara._

 _ **Father**_.

She dropped to the ground, a loud tremor erupting around her as she cried aloud. Her pain so alive and sorrow so deep, she swore her cries were the sound of the beast that had cut her down in hot blood and left her for dead.

Without a sparing thought, she turned and ran, just as the guards had reached her lifeless body lay askew on cold, unforgiving northern plains. _How she loathed the north. A land just knew, that had ripped her fiery soul from its body in seconds._

And this was death? An eternal sentence of a grieving spirit wandering outside a body it could not return? Eliesse ran through the vast woods, trees breaking off, stumps imploding as she thundered through the desolate brush. Her body felt heavy and hot as the adrenaline pumped her further and further away. Her heart never faltered, though she begged the Gods it would, as it continued to tremble away, _uselessly._

" _Come back my flower…"_

Thara.

The kind woman's voice cursed her mind as she felt tears weld in the corners of her eyes. She slowed her frantic retreat, listening to Thara's voice call to her in sweet nothings.

" _Come back to me, Ellie..._ _ **wake up"**_

 _I_ _ **can't!**_ _I'm dead!_ The girl sobbed in her mind, waking slowly to a river bank. She wondered if she could drown herself. She wondered if she could kill this tortured spirit, as she wished to no longer hear the voice of her loved ones calling to her from her slain body in the snow.

She knelt at the stream and closed her tired eyes. Her trembling heart had finally slowed. She reached her hands out to cup some water to splash on her strangely hot face.

Two, massive brown paws rested before her.

Eliesse stared wide eyed at her hands as her heart began to sputter once more. _What in the_ _ **Gods**_ …over and back, back and over she turned her arms, hoping her mind was playing just another undead trick on her and that these great, burly weapons would manifest back into the small, smooth hands she'd grown to know.

She leaned forward and stared into the reflection of the river meeting eyes with familiar, ominous yellow orbs.

She _screamed_ in terror. Birds flew from the tree tops and small animals scampered away. Her heart finally seizing as she felt the earth around her shift once more and thrust her rapidly through the woods, brush, thisled green trees...all a blur in the speed her spirit soared through the crisp north air. Her body rose and her breath swallowed, losing its luster. Darkness imploded her walls...air coming in slowly as desperate wisps...and then suddenly, she gasped.

Her eyes flew open suddenly.

Thara stroked the young girl's face that had become damp with sweat as she tried to soothe the ramped heaving of her billowing chest. "Shh, my flower...it is over. You are _awake"_ she whispered for Eliesse's ears only. Thara draped her own cloak over the trembling girl's frame, making note of the wet between her shaking legs. _Poor girl..._ She would have to get her cleaned up before anyone could notice.

Slowly and without a word spared, Eliesse's eyes fluttered shut. Once more, the strange ecstasy had left her body spent...

—

Eliesse stirred in a deep sleep that left her body aching. Softly, her eyes flickered shimmers of light and darkness as she fought to focus her vision. The soft swaying of her surrounding lulled her gently awake.

She inhaled sharply, feeling a strange pain peak behind her head. She winced away from it, whispering curses under hoarse breaths. "I've warned you that language as such is unbecoming of a growing lady, my flower…"

Eliesse jumped, startled at Thara's voice in the strange darkness she lay in. Her eyes adjusted slowly, revealing the kind woman sitting at her side, knitting away silently. She never looked up from her swift fingers.

Eliesse stared mesmerized for a moment, confused at her surroundings. A soft quilt covered her frame that was no longer trembling from the northern cold. She proudly tore from it, sitting up quickly. The pain in the back of her head amplified, reminding her of its presence. She winced once more, brushing her fingers across the tender spot. _What happened?..._

"Eliesse, rest my sweet. You have lost a _whole day_...surely you're body needed the rest to not wake for so…" Thara eyed the girl carefully, placing her needle and yarn down in her lap. Eliesse's eyes widened in astonishment.

 _A whole day?_

"W—what happened?"

"You provoked a mother bear when you attempted to pet her cubs...when she burst through the clearing, you startled, and fainted. You fell back so hard you hit your head" she spoke mechanically, staring at the girl. Her eyes held a sternness that was unbecoming of the sweet woman...a tone in her voice unrecognizable and firm to the girl.

"I don't _faint._ _ **Warriors**_ don't faint, Thara" Eliesse scoffed, standing once more. The pain in her head throbbed in warning to her but she squashed the tremor under her shoe, uninterested in its woe.

"They _do_ when they are exhausted and hungry" she retorted, her tone never diminishing. Eliesse shook her head slowly. Though the scene was obscured in her mind, she could vividly recall her dream... _she thought she had transformed into a bear._

Silence filled the small carriage, deafening the two women. "...I had another strange dream...like...when I was little...and sometimes from before... _I dreamt I was a bear this time_ …" Eliesse whispered, unsure why her heart had suddenly began pumping furiously, surrounding her chest and body in a uncomfortable heat.

Thara bit her lips, her eyes hard and brows furrowed. "It was a dream. You fainted and hit your head hard, my flower".

Eliesse shook her head, the pain emitting waves of nausea throughout her body. Still, she kept on. "No, it wasn't. I...I don't think so...I know you always say they are dreams...but I don't think this was...I—

Thara leapt frantically from her seat, crossing the carriage in mere strides and grasping the injured girl's face harshly between calloused hands. Eliesse winced at the pressure, as she stared shocked and wide eyed at her handmaiden. " _It was a_ _ **dream**_ _! Nothing more or less than a trick of your ailing mind. Don't be silly, Eliesse...these fainting spells have troubled you since you were a small girl!"_ She whispered harsh and quick at the girl, her hands never leaving Eliesse's tender face. "I will hear no more of this. And you will speak nothing of these _dreams_ to anyone...yes?"

Eliesse stared back, shock and frustration filling her up and swallowing the angry girl. _She didn't understand!_

Or, _perhaps she did._

"I—

" _ **Promise me, my flower!**_ " Thara begged, her eyes frantic suddenly. Eliesse searched Thara's eyes but found no clue or inclination of where the woman's hysteria was stemming from. No matter; she loved Thara like a mother...her concern was never an exaggeration. She would oblige, no less.

"I promise" she whispered.

The Royal Carriage came to an abrupt pause. Eliesse and Thara glanced at each other, as they listened for the meaning of the sudden pause in their journey through the north.

Eliesse dressed quickly, pulling her cloak from the chair Thara had sat upon, and thrust open the carriage doors before she could protest and remind the fierce girl of her apparent head injury.

She leaped from the step, walking briskly through the convoy of men and horses. It was then, she noticed how quiet they stood at the sight of her.

She walked slowly looking for her steed. Her eyes remained low and focused as she felt the stinging glare of men and women upon her. A few whispers touched her ears, though no one dared approach the girl for what they saw.

" _Ye see her eyes roll back in her head, white? A witch…"_ A man whispered to another as she passed them.

" _Her handmaiden said the girl bumped her head...some seizure she had a resort. Strange, sickly thing. Must be the dwarf's blood thick in her veins…"_ A wench muttered.

Eliesse turned abruptly, nose flaring and steaming with a fire she knew too well. She shot the woman a menacing look, causing her to flinch. If looks was all it took, the woman would've been cut down there in hot blood and putrid cooking cloths. Eliesse spat snidely at the wench's side. She turned, proud and venomous and continued onward to retrieve her horse.

Lord Arryn led at the head of the convoy. He glanced over his shoulder, watching the small Lannister girl approaching him quietly. "How be your head, girl? Your handmaiden says you took quite the fall...damn well had a seizure of some sort because of it" He cocked an eyebrow at the young girl, watching as she grabbed at the reins of her horse that he had been holding onto. He watched as she silently mounted the steed, not a breath becoming of the bruised ego she so obviously boasted.

"I am well. How far until this _Winterfell?"_ She remarked cooly, never once looking at the man. She knew pride and honor well...she was a _warrior_...and warriors don't _faint_ like little girls. She chewed her already ragged lip, unwilling to meet the Lord's curious stare. She knew what they all thought...that she was mad… _a bloody witch_.

But deep in the girl's heart, though she loved and trusted Thara with her heart and soul, she _knew_ she did not faint. True say, she had been terrified...she wouldn't deny that. She was no fool. But the girl refused to believe she fainted. And that _dream_...it was too real, too apparent…

 _...And something that happened too often._

"Winterfell lies right over the hill on that pass, just there. Let us hurry before nightfall" Lord Arryn cracked his reigns swiftly, signaling the convoy forward. He took off in a great gallop, Eliesse close in toe.

—

" _Open the gates! The Royal Escort approaches!"_

Eddard Stark stood solemn with his wife Lady Catelyn Stark as the enormous gates of Winterfell lurched open. "Finally" she whispered, grasping her Lord husband's hand. He glanced down to her, an amused smirk blessing his usual brooding face.

"You are eager for the Ambassadors of the Crown?" He chuckled deep, looking forward as the first of many men in chainmail walked through the gates.

"More eager for their visit to be over...though I am overjoyed to see Lord Arryn…" She smiled small, joining her husband in seeing through the men and carriages.

"The children?"

"Groomed and waiting behind us...though don't spare them a glance...they will know we were speaking of them" she smirked quietly, eyes forward. Eddard chuckled once more, turning nonetheless despite his wife's warning. She chuckled again, squeezing his great hand playfully. "You never listen"

"Never" he replied, eyeing his brood proudly.

His children stood silently and awaiting, teetering from one foot to the other. Bran, a curious young boy held his small brother of three's hand, Rickon. The small boy fidgeted relentlessly, trying to pry small fingers from his older brothers hold. "Stop it, Rickon! Mother says you must stay with me!"

"Leave him alone _Bran,_ he's bored and _hungry_ like the rest of us" Arya jested, rolling her eyes. She shivered under the furs of her cloak.

"Shut up, Arya…he's doing what he was _told!_ You'd be wise to try the same every now and then" Sansa, the prettiest Stark scowled at her younger sister. She turned back to the Royal Guard, smiling gleefully. _One day perhaps, I will be escorted by the Guard,_ she say dreamed quietly. It was Sansa's deepest desire to one day become a princess...maybe even a _Queen…_

"Both of you'd be wise to shut your mouths...your father watches us…" Theon Greyjoy, Eddard Stark's ward sneered, eyeing the two young girls coldly. They shrank away from his cold, blue glare.

"Watch it, Greyjoy...they're excited. This is the first time the Royal Guard has visited Winterfell in many years... _you'd_ be wise to mind your words or be dealt with at training" Robb, the eldest of Eddard's brood and heir to Winterfell warned the Iron Born boy...Theon scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"As if I give a bloody fuck of the Royal Guard...this be your home and guest, not mine, Stark." Theon retorted tiredly. "Aye, where's that bastard brother of yours? I reckon Lady Stark probably left him in the stables to not embarrass her" He snickered devilishly, earning a scowl from Robb and Arya.

"His name is _Jon,_ and he is where _you_ should be standing...back _there_ " Robb nodded behind Greyjoy who simply scoffed and turned around to walk to the quiet, dark and curly haired boy with stormy grey eyes. Robb watched in silence as Theon stood beside his bastard brother Jon Snow. He frowned empathetically at the quiet boy, almost a man like he and Greyjoy. He loved his brother, bastard or highborn...he wished he could stand beside the rest of Eddard's children.

"What did you have to do to be granted permission to stand here, Snow? Agree to clean the stables of horse shit?" Theon laughed lowly once more at the expense of the quiet boy. Jon paid him no mind, standing somberly with his arms tucked away under his furs. Aye, Lady Stark had had a few words before the Royal Escort arrived with the boy.

" _Don't look at anyone, do not_ _ **speak**_ _to anyone unless spoken to! You will sit at the guards table and keep_ _ **quiet**_ _...so help you the Gods if you stray from my words, Jon Snow…"_

Jon watched curiously as most of the Guard came to a stop before his Lord father and Lady Stark. A man with white hair trotted up to the both of them eagerly. He quickly dismounted and stood quietly in front of Eddard for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, he smiled a crooked smile and grabbed Lord Stark, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Ned, my boy! And Lady Catelyn...I am honored. Look at you, both. Look at the children...fine brood, Ned...a fine brood indeed…I am eager to discuss—

The gates burst open suddenly as a thundering horse galloped swiftly into the courtyard. Eddard and Catelyn took a step back as the white steed came to a brisk halt before them. The man in front of Lord and Lady Stark sighed deeply, a disapproving smile on his face as he shook his head.

"I apologize for my dramatic entrance, My Lord and Lady...my steed was grazing in the wild grass just outside the gates...after such a long journey, you'd understand her eagerness to fill her gut before filling her duty" A voice called from under a thin red cloak.

The person tossed back their hood, revealing a petite but _beautiful_ girl. Robb, Theon and Jon's eyes widened simultaneously as they all turned to one another...Robb and Theon shared an expression of wonder and mischief, alive in their young eyes. Jon's eyes though were fixated on the damsel, his mouth slightly agape.

" _Fuck_ the Guard _**indeed**_ …" Theon whispered, eyeing the young girl hungrily. Robb turned to him, face full of sternness, though an amusement washed through it as well.

Jon watched as she dismounted from her horse and bowed before his father and Lady Stark. "I am Eliesse Lannister, My Lord and Lady...it is an honor to be in your presence and your home" She said sweetly, curtseying low and gracefully.

"We have heard wonderful things of your witt and beauty, my Lady...the honor is ours" Eddard spoke deeply, taking the young girl's hand in his own and pressing a kiss to it. She smiled, deep dimples gracing each cheek.

Jon's gaze never left the girl. His heart quickened from where he stood, mouth suddenly becoming dry. He could vaguely hear his other siblings whispers of the girl's beauty, and of course, Theon's obscene and inappropriate commentary as well. She was truly a sight...Jon had never seen a girl more radiant. He shied away from her gaze that scanned him and his siblings. _He was a bastard_. He had no right to even look at such a beautiful, highborn lady. He watched as she shook the hands of his small siblings. Sansa gawked at the girl, becoming giddy as she called her a "pretty little flower".

He dutifully noted her olive skin that looked as though she bathed in the rays of the sun regularly...her golden brown hair, tied neatly into a bun and secured with a pretty red ribbon...lips, as cherry red as the leaves on the strange weirwood tree in the Godswood...eyes, beautifully swooned by long lashes, and the color of gold ablaze…

However, Jon was not the only boy in the courtyard to notice the beautiful girl…

Eliesse walked to Robb Stark, stopping before him. She peered up at him, a small smile on her plump lips. "Hello...you must be Robb" she curtsied once more before the swooning boy who did his best to keep his chest straight and firm. Aye, she was truly astonishing.

"And you, Eliesse Lannister...an honor to finally meet the Tiger of Casterly Rock" he took the girl's hand in his own, raising it slowly to his mouth where he lay a sweet and gentle kiss upon it. Eliesse blushed lightly, glancing to his Lord father and mother.

"Quite the gentleman you've raised, My Lord and Lady...even in Dorne, maiden's don't witness such shivalry" She mused, turning back to the suddenly bashful boy. Robb loved the way she spoke, her Dornish drawl rolling her sentences in such an alluring way. He shon her a gorgeous smile, noting his hand still held her own. He gently dropped it, lingering her hot fingers on his cool own.

"Come now, my friend...We have much to discuss...send for the kitchen wrenches to begin preparing a feast" Lord Stark spoke firmly to his wife. She smiled, obliging. The courtyard became a bustle of men and women once more as she shooed her daughters off to their Septa and her small boys to their handmaidens for washing.

"Robb, Ser Rodrik awaits you boys for training. Do finish quickly and begin to wash for supper…" She called to her eldest son as she walked off to the kitchens to let them know the feasts will begin soon. She passed by Jon Snow slowly, eyeing him cruely. " _You know what's expected of you boy. You'd do best not to cross me or embarrass Lord Stark during the Guard's visit"_ She harshly whispered, eyes like knives on the quiet boy. He looked down, nodding silently.

"Of course, my Lady".

He turned quickly, hoping to catch up with his brother Robb and Theon Greyjoy for training as Lady Stark instructed.

"And who are you? I noticed you behind all the Stark children...watching me...such a naughty, unbecoming habit for a boy to develop, you know. It's easier to just introduced yourself".

Jon's eyes went wide as he stared bewildered at Eliesse Lannister, so close he swore he could count all the light freckles on her nose. She cocked a proud brow at him, pursing her lips curiously. " _Well?_ Who are you?"

"Jon. Jon Snow. Lord Stark's bastard" Jon spoke quickly, taken aback at the girl's forwardness. His eyes scanned her face slowly...even this close, he couldn't find a single flaw on her face. He watched her pursed lips, a quickening in his chest building. His eyes followed lower to the smooth plains of her exposed shoulders and chest, budding bosoms not quite ready for womanhood... _her dress truly leaves much and then none to the imagination,_ Jon thought as his eyes travelled the slinky, peach dress that clung to the girl in places meant for a woman's dressings...he could see through her thin red cloak that it bared no sleeves...exposing more olive flesh for his eyes to feast on. He shook his head, catching himself ogling the highborn lady inappropriately.

"Bastard, eh? I could see that...by the way Lady Stark just spoke to you, a true bitch she might just be in hiding…it'd make sense for Lord Stark to possibly run to another to escape her squawking" Eliesse snickered, turning to watch the scorned woman as she hurried into the keep.

Jon's stared at Eliesse like she bore three heads. _No one would_ _ **ever**_ _say that about Lady Catelyn Stark. "_ It's not like that...she means well" Jon retorted sternly. Eliesse turned back to him, an amused look on her face.

"Perhaps...you know, in Dorne, where I hail from...no one cares about _bastards_ , or _highborns_...they be more concerned of your honor. Do you have honor, Jon Snow?" She tilted her head to the side, eyeing the boy inquisitively once more. Jon's breath halted once more as he averted his eyes downward. She made the young boy's heart howl like the wolf he was and loins tighten more than any lady at Winterfell had.

"Of course. I am raised by an honorable man" He spoke confidently, his stormy eyes smoldering Eliesse's golden ones.

She smirked. "Good then...it was nice meeting you Jon Snow. I'm sure I will see you around" she took his hand quickly, and raised it to her full, red lips. Jon watched entranced as she never broke his gaze and pressed her lips lazily to his hand. She let them linger there for a drawing moment, before smirking against his cold hand. Just as quickly as she had grabbed it, she dropped his hold and turned on a swift foot, walking back to her horse and taking its reins. Jon watched mesmerized as she led the steed to the stables, but not before glancing once more over her shoulder at the blushing bastard.

He quickly turned on his own heel, heart in his chest and heat swelling in stomach as he took off after his brother and Greyjoy once more.

" _Eliesse Lannister of Dorne…"_ he muttered to himself, the foreign name tasting sweet on his northern tongue.

—

At last, they meet! And so our story truly begins… ~ RL


	5. Chapter 5

"My flower, what dress would you like to wear this evening at the feast?" Thara called to Eliesse from the girl's chambers provided by Lord and Lady Stark. She shuffled around the dark, stone chamber lit with torch, placing and arranging the young Lannister's belongings. The room was located at the top of one of Winterfell's vacant towers, for maximum security. Lady Catelyn Stark felt it was _fitting_ for the young lady to have her privacy with minimal worry of intrusion from wandering eyes…

 _...and curious, young boys._

Eliesse ran her fingers over hot, cobblestone walls, her mind interested in the the structure of Winterfell and how they managed to course hot spring water through the frames of the massive keep. The cold north winds did not penetrate the walls, allowing for the grand castle to maintain a pleasant level of comfort for its residents and guest. She was content with this.

She glanced sideways through the meek doorframe of her provided quarters at Thara, who was briskly organizing the Dornish girls dresses and belongings into appropriate storage. Her dark hands picked at the slinky, sheer, southern dresses, as she deliberated which would boast the young girl's blossoming figure better. She stopped, holding up a red, sheer dress that dipped dangerously at the bodice, back bare and arms missing. "Perhaps this one, my flower?"

Eliesse glanced at it, smiling inwardly. Her uncle had given that dress to her upon her departure of Dorne.

" _I had the seamstress make this especially for you...red always suited your tawny skin, my flower…" Oberyn smiled, fingering the gentle, sheer fabric. Eliesse's eyes glowed in infatuation. It was true, red was always her color. "Your mother was the same...red everything...clothes, linens...armour...her skin was always a few shades fairer than ours...it complimented it well, where as it would drown the rest of us bronzer Martell's out"_

"Yes...that one" She mumbled above a barely hushed whisper. She walked slowly to Thara, her fingers trembling over the fine fabric. _A lifetime away..._ she thought, sadness etched in a wild mind. The room ached in silence...though she was appreciative of Lady Stark's hospitality and ensurement of privacy, she still couldn't escape the looming isolation that crept about her smoldering flesh. Perhaps, it was loneliness, for no lands could adhere to her need of belonging like Dorne could...sadness drew into her chest, threatening her throat with the sting of a cry she'd do best to shoo away.

"Have you wrote Lord Tyrion?" Thara asked quietly, closing the chamber doors from curious ears that could be afoot. She watched as Eliesse's eyes shimmered slightly at the mention of her father. The wise woman couldn't quite put a finger on the young girl's expression to hearing the dwarf's name. "He did request…"

"No, I haven't...I will...I suppose it slipped my mind" Eliesse mumbled quietly, eyes dancing from wall to wall. "Robert Baratheon was so _hellbent_ on my exploration and education of the north...I feel as though I should be outside, looking at things...letting my fingers burn blue…" she rolled her eyes childishly. Thara smiled small, her head tilted shamingly at the young and naive girl.

"Perhaps...I will write him on your behalf, my flower" she folded away the rest of Eliesse's belongings, leaving the sheer red dress out for dressing, after a well anticipated bath. If there was to be a grand, celebratory feast, Thara would ensure that the princess of Dorne would make a statement in the north.

Eliesse nodded, unsure of why she avoided a daughter's duty so adamantly. _Tomorrow_...she thought to herself as she attempted to write out in her wary mind what she would say to her strange father.

Tyrion Lannister was an odd man. Though Eliesse had only been in the capital a significantly short time, the dwarf hadn't truly sought her out to spend lost time with her. It wasn't like the Dornish girl _really_ wanted to...but she supposed the very least he would've attempted to _any_ if not all interest in her presence.

But he hadn't.

She disregarded the fact, nonetheless.

" _Up now, Robb! That's it, my young wolf...again!"_

The loud clanking of wood on wood seeped through the cracked window of Eliesse's chambers. She rose from her somber seat on the bed, creeping quietly to its place. Thara continued to organize and clean the chamber...oblivious to the girl's wandering attention.

Eliesse peered out the frosted glass, pushing it farther open to appease her sight. Her hot breath kissed the glass silently as she wiped away its dew in attempt to clear her vision.

She peered down into the courtyard seeing the young Robb Stark, his bastard brother and another auburn haired fellow training with a grey haired man. "Good on you boy...Theon...you're up".

Eliesse turned to Thara, lips pursed in unbeknownst mischief. "I'm going to walk the grounds, Thara...I'll be back soon" she called over her shoulder as she quickly scampered to the door of her chambers. Thara glanced up quickly, a naive smile on her tanned face. She had finished putting away the last of the girl's clothes and had begun tidying the obviously unkempt chamber.

"Of course, my flower".

Eliesse's quick legs patted down the cold, winding cobblestone, her hands barely levitating above the wall for support. Her peach dress fluttered impatiently behind her as she navigated the strangely dim stairwell with untrained eyes. She turned into the main hallway of Winterfell, navigating barely off of memory to the doors that brought her into the vast castle. The corridors were a bustle of kitchen wenches and servants, busy with preparations for this evenings feast. She slipped unannounced out the keep's doors and into the cold courtyard.

"Very good, Theon...try not to let your shield arm down when you strike...always anticipate your enemy's counter" Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's Master-at-arms called out to the iron-born boy. Theon huffed impatiently, tossing his wooden sword to the side. This was _child's play_ to him.

"I want to train with _steel!_ I already know my enemy's moves...all I do is train with Robb and Jon...they're no challenge! I want to train with a knight and use steel!" Theon complained, spitting harshly to the side. Robb shook his head tiredly at the arrogant ward, as these were his woes every training session. Jon quietly stood to the side, observing Rodrik Cassel's face turn impatiently red.

"You are not ready for steel, boy"

"Says you, old man!" Theon yelled, throwing himself into a stack of hay. "I won't fight or train with these _ladies_ any longer...I want to improve, not remain the same…"

Eliesse walked quietly to the boasting men, her eyes fixated on the bastard boy who quietly hung to the side. Her eyes wandered across the soft chisel of his boyish face, his shiny black curls and of course, her favorite...those dark, stormy eyes.

Eliesse had never truly taken notice of any boy before. Sure, there were servant boys in Dorne, even a passing merchant's son... _a few ladies she had noticed, too_...but it was a brooding boy that always captured her attention. Her eyes hadn't started their wandering until around her tenth name day…a fisherman's son offered her a small flower when her uncle brought her down to the docks. She remembered the feeling of his wet, warm fingers that brushed against her own...she remembered the hot eruption that quivered in her center and unfamiliar throb that trembled just below. It was around that time she became aware of _lust_ and _pleasure_...and following shortly after, _experimenting_. Sometimes with boys, _sometimes_ with girls. Nothing worth noting to her uncle, of course. Though Oberyn wouldn't have protested had he known, either way. She was a budding, curious girl, and it was _the Dornish way_ , after all _._

"Lady Eliesse" Robb Stark was the first to notice the young woman's arrival. He nearly dropped his training sword as he straightened quickly, mouth agape and eyes wandering much more than they should've. He mentally cursed himself, trying to remember his honor that his mother had scolded him about. "What brings you to the training grounds?" He asked curiously, reaching for her hand once more.

Eliesse smirked softly. Robb was handsome, true. His sky, blue eyes that twinkled in the sunlight and curly red hair was alluring to her. She had never met anyone in her life with such striking features...and of course, his boyish charm and manners were greatly appreciated. She extended her hand to his, which he gracefully took to lay an innocent kiss upon. A slight redness touched her nose. "Just wandering...I heard the grunting of men and thought I'd have a look...I'm not disappointed" she mused, her eyes glittering in a sexuality she had learned as a Dornish woman, but not truly experienced.

Robb blushed slightly, virgin to this tone of voice and suggestive commentary. He glanced to his brothers behind him. Theon had rose quickly from the haystack he'd taken refuge on earlier. He eyed the olive toned girl lustfully. Though he too was of their age, he had already experienced a woman's touch...a wench or two of Winterfell...perhaps even a whore. His wet appetite trickled to the mysterious Dornish girl before him.

"My lady, I beg your pardon...I did not have the honor of introducing myself to you upon your arrival...I am Theon Greyjoy. Heir to the Iron Islands" He smiled, eyes bright and teeth crooked in irony. He reached for her hand as well, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to it. Eliesse cocked her eyebrow at the bold boy, amused at his bravado. It was men and boys like him that Dornish women loved to toy with…

"The pleasure is mine...or yours...or both" Eliesse cooed, batting her eyes at the hormonal boy. He smirked inwardly, feeling as though the great Lannister girl were stroking his ego...and maybe later, stroking something more…

"Both...yours first though, my lady...I _am_ a gentleman" Theon sneered, eyes glazed in desire. Eliesse pursed her lips, amused. She disregarded his comment.

"Jon Snow" She called firmly to the quiet boy who who stood solemnly to the side, fingers firm on a wooden sword. Jon glanced up to meet the brazen girl's eyes, his heart fluttering unfairly. It hurt to look at her. Her beauty was stifling, so much so he felt _uncomfortable_ to gaze upon her.

He eyed her face quietly, his gaze dropping to her moist, plump lips that had been on his hand only an hour earlier. He remembered the feel of the soft, voluptuous plains and suddenly hardened in his place. _I wonder how they would feel around..._ He cursed himself for the abrasive, dishonorable thought. He was both shocked, confused and _aroused_ at its invasion.

He couldn't help it...Eliesse Lannister had awoken a _wild instinct_ in the usually timid boy. From the moment her lips touched his hand, the wolf in him awakened, _howling_ its need throughout the boy and eyeing the innocent girl predatorily.

 _He wanted her_.

But a boy of his age and lack of maturity couldn't really understand _what_ it was he wanted of the girl. He only knew that he wanted _something_ , though didn't know _how_ to get it…

...or if he should.

He shifted slightly, trying to hide his obvious erection. He was still young and inexperienced at controlling his primal instincts.

"My lady" He muttered quietly, eyes averted away from the Dornish girl for fear he'd spill himself just at the sight of her. Eliesse frowned slightly, disappointed that he didn't take her hand as well. He was shy, no doubt...yet, she desired his attention.

 _She couldn't understand why._

"It's cold in the north" Eliesse suddenly said, rubbing her bare arms. The young girl had darted so quickly outside, she forgot to grab her cloak for warmth. So, she stood solemnly in her peach dress that was unapologetically sheer...so much so that the buds of her bosom poked proud and true through the translucent fabric. Jon, Theon and Robb had already taken notice, though none spoke of the matter. Goosebumps formed silently on her bare bare arms, as she eyed each boy curiously. Alas, there was only one boy she watched closer than the rest…

 _Jon Snow._

She made it a point to rub her arms in a chilling matter, pretending to be colder than she truly was. Yes, it was true that the north had an unforgiving chill, but she carried the Dorne sun in her veins. She was truly content, though she'd exaggerate the latter so. _Offer me your cloak, you ass_...she screamed in her adolescent mind to the quiet Snow.

Jon watched her quietly, his mouth opened slightly to speak, though no words came forth. He fingered the holdings on his cloak, _wanting_ to offer it, but unsure if she'd _accept_ a bastard's dressings. "I—

"My lady, _please_ , take my coat...while I'm sure you're use to a southern sun, the north is not so generous...this should keep you warm" Robb interjected quickly, shrugging from and draping his pelts over the somewhat disappointed girl. Eliesse smiled politely as Robb ran his fingertips sparingly over the bare flesh of her shoulders. He had never felt skin so smooth…

Eliesse met his gaze, losing herself momentarily in his blue eyes. They're gaze held, quietly.

Theon rolled his eyes, watching the way Robb watched the girl. "Oi, looking to take her down right here in the muck, Stark?" He laughed mockingly. Robb blushed, quickly retracting his hands from the cloak and Eliesse's skin.

"Theon!" Ser Rodrik proclaimed, coming back to the hormonal bunch after having a word with a wench regarding the feast this evening. "Eliesse Lannister, what is a fine girl like you doing down in the training yards?" He smiled politely at the pretty thing.

"I heard people training...it's been a while since I got any sparing in. I was hoping to join" she answered plainly as though it were the most obvious reason for her intrusion of the practicing boys. Ser Rodrik smirked amusingly…he was much aware of a woman's role in training and fighting in Dorne. However, the three naive boys before him gasped, eyes wide and mouth hung in shock for the words they'd heard.

" _Spar..._ with _us?"_ Theon questioned, his eyes dancing in amusement. " _My lady..._ I don't think that's a good idea. We wouldn't want to _hurt_ you" he laughed suddenly, glancing to Robb and Jon who equally looked amused, though remained silent to the fact.

Eliesse cocked a proud brow at the Iron boy, impatient with his humor. "Are you afraid, Theon?" She asked curiously. Jon, Robb and Ser Rodrik smiled quietly at the girl's questions. "If you are...I'm sure Robb or Jon would be _happy_ to assist me"

The two wolf boys and Ser Rodrik suddenly spilled with laughter, igniting fury in the proud Greyjoy boy. "I am anything but afraid of a _girl._ Alright then, _on with it"_ Theon huffed, grabbing his training sword once more from the ground. He gestured her to another wooden sword lying peacefully to the side.

Eliesse smirked small, glancing softly to her side at the training sword. She walked to the dummy stick, grasping it within a tiny hand. "My lady, do you need to change into something more _mobile?"_ Robb Stark asked curiously, his worry rising. He would be cross with Greyjoy if he purposely harmed the girl. He assumed this little duel to be for banter...but he knew Theon was a bashful lad, and his ego easily bruised.

"Thank you, but I am fine. This is actually one of my more _mobile dresses._ The rest fit rather snug, to say these least" she smiled sweetly, shrugging off the young Lord's pelt.

The three lads watched sleuth and lustfully as the coat shrugged from her shoulders, revealing smoldering flesh. They swallowed in unison.

"Alright then, you first" She winked to Theon, taking no offensive or defensive stance. She twirled the stick playfully in her hands, stroking up and down it sensually, eyes searing and locked on the lustful boy.

Theon smirked, grasping his own sword and stalking forward. "If you submit quickly, you can show me those _handling_ skills sooner…"

"We shall see" Eliesse remarked coolly.

Theon circled the young Viperess cunningly...he drew his sword up, swatting quickly at her side.

She danced smoothly to the side, her sword up in mockery. "Was _that_ an attack?" She mused, head tilted in a childish manner.

Jon and Robb chuckled quietly, earning a glare from Greyjoy. Ser Rodrik Cassel sat in a tired manner on the haystack, very much aware of how this little duel would end.

Theon slashed at Eliesse once more, to which she dodged casually again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "And here I thought you had something to prove to me. Shame" she sighed tiredly, wrapping an arm around her back, her sword hand forward. The Stark boys boomed in laughter, igniting fire in Theon's loins.

He lunged once more, again and again, swatting the air as Eliesse evaded his blows, tiredly. He slashed at her aggressively from above, though she bent back, letting his rage cut just over the top of her, before regaining her stance. She smirked, winking at him.

Theon snorted in anger, swinging his arm again, this time grabbing her dresses bodice. She frowned at his cheating attempt. _No honor, in this one..._ she thought disappointedly.

She grabbed his arm that clung angrily to her bodice and twisted it menacingly behind his back, her other arm sealing her wooden sword under his throat as she forced him to drop to his knees against her front and submit. "Say my name and I'll let you go" she whispered alluringly in his ear.

He thrashed against her, spilling saliva and anger in angst. She tightened her hold on his arm, yanking a tad bit higher. He yelped in response, his eyes flying open in pain and shock.

"Say...my name. Eliesse…" She whispered once more, holding him firmer and tighter against her breast. He gasped at the white hot pain, shocked and embarrassed that the girl had caught him. " _Say it"_ she jerked his arm once more earning the response she beckoned for.

" _Eliesse! Eliesse!"_ He cried out, finally. She smiled triumphantly, releasing the boy's arm. He dropped from her breast, holding his sore arm and ego. "You cheat!" He yelled, rising quickly and glaring hard at the two brothers who were heaved over in laughter. Ser Rodrik shook his head, amusement washed over firm features.

"I won fair and square...strange...you calling out my name as such, didn't quite render me the satisfaction I sought...perhaps, one of you" She glanced at the two recovering brothers who suddenly stopped their banter. They glanced at each other nervously, neither one willing to fall victim to becoming a laughing stock of the yard as Theon had.

Robb chuckled nervously, pushing his quiet brother forward. "Jon told me he wants at you next" he pressed his lips together, sealing another laugh behind them. Jon stared wide eyed and accusing at his brother. He shook his head, turning to the girl who twirled the sword in her hands once more, eyeing the young wolf like cattle to a lion.

"Let's go, then" she smirked, beckoning him forward. Jon stood silently, fingering his training sword. He didn't want to fight the young girl, or hurt her…

 _...at least not in_ _ **that**_ _way._

He shook his head once more at the ominous thoughts.

Eliesse gave the boy no chance to consider his options. She dashed towards the boy, her stick high and clashing down at him. Jon armed quickly, catching her blow with his own dummy.

She pressed into his sword, trying to throw him off balance. But Jon was a solid fighter...maybe even better than Robb, though no one would credit the bastard so. _He wasn't allowed to be better than the Prince of Winterfell_.

He stood his ground, pushing back against the girl, backing her up to the haystacks behind them. She gritted her teeth, feeling her bare back press against prickly hay as Jon used her weight against her.

He stared into her firecracker eyes, his stormy ones searching hers in wonder. She had a wild look in her eye, as she stepped between his legs, knocking him back and switching their position. She swatted against his sword, pushing him into the hay like he had her. But she was much smaller than the young wolf and had to use her whole body to submit him. She pressed herself against him, their fronts pressing another in strange heat. She could feel the heaving of his chest, and he the frantic rising and falling of her own against his. Their noses almost touched, as he stared at her deeply, his breath coming in hot waves against her face.

She searched his eyes for something lacking in Theon's...something she could use to her advantage. His eyes rose to her hers once more and she found it…

Weakness.

 _For her._

She kneed him in the stomach, earning a gasp from him as she raised her other foot and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying back. He fell in a might to the dirt grounds, staring at her bewildered. She swung her sword in her hand, cracking down at him, aggressively.

Jon raised his sword in time before her blow could register to his jaw. Her eyes were fiery and wild, a desire to win burning hot on her stunning face.

 _She was truly, terrifyingly beautiful._

He kicked the ground from beneath her feet as she yelped, falling on her bottom. Her sword flew from her hand behind her. She turned quickly, flipping on her stomach to crawl swiftly to the discarded weapon before the boy could strike once more. Jon watched from the floor in front of him as she turned, arse up and on all fours as she attempted to crawl quickly to her dummy.

 _Something deep in his chest growled_ _at the sight._

He thought himself a true wolf, taking her roughly like an alpha would take his bitch. His mind blurred and senses vanished as he lunged for the girl.

He quickly leapt on his hands and knees, grabbing her ankle roughly as he yanked her away from her sword, mere moments before her fingers brushed its handle. He thrust the girl underneath him, panting heavily, a look of wildness and frenzy alive in his own eyes as he stared down at her beneath him.

Eliesse gasped at his sudden brashness, eyes wide and dress yanked so high from his dragging, that her under clothes nearly revealed. She breathed heavy as he stared down at her, his own eyes mirroring the wildness and wonder her own held.

She could feel _it_...or _him,_ perhaps...firm, hard, pressed roughly against her inner thigh. She blushed slightly, her eyes never leaving his own and breath never slowing. He stared down at the lioness, his own chest heaving and heart howling in desire he didn't know he held or was capable of. She struggled against his weight, attempting to lift herself from underneath, though he quietly pressed himself against her _rougher_ , earning a slight gasp of shock from the young girl. He held her pinned and awaiting…

Her eyes glazed as they searched over and over his own...he met her look, eyes a adrift from her own, subtly scanning her tanned face and resting on plump lips.

She bit them; unsure of the pulse and throb that had begun in her womanhood. She had somehow forgotten their duel and could only think of the warmth and feel of his unusually hot body against her frantic one. Her heart raged on, as it pumped need and desire through her immature mind. She shifted her leg against him... _all of him,_ earning a groan of shock and fright from his own red, bitten lips as he glanced between them to her exposed, olive thigh and glowing flesh of it.

"Alright, that's enough you two. Jon, up and off the girl...you won...no need to crush her under your weight" Ser Rodrik called, clearing his throat at the two hormonal youths. He clapped his great hands, beckoning them to separate.

Jon glanced up suddenly, the wolf retreating back to the den of his mind. He blushed at his actions, unsure of where they had came from. _He would_ _ **never**_ _behave that way towards a lady…_ he quickly rose from the panting girl, quickly extending a hand. "I'm sorry, my lady...if I hurt you or scared you…" he stumbled, very aware of his brother and Greyjoy's eyes on him.

Eliesse stared up at the boy from the ground, bewildered and _excited_...she mentally reminded herself to breathe, for the redness in her face surely travelled to the rest of her hot body and gave way to her feelings. "I'm fine" She swatted Jon's hand away, standing suddenly and lowering her hiked dress. She peered at him through damp, curly hair, as she dusted her dress off. "Lucky blow".

Jon retraced his hand, burnt and embarrassed from her dismissing of him. _Perhaps he had been too rough and scared the poor thing. "_ I'm so—

"I should be returning to my chambers anyhow, I'm sure my handmaiden is looking for me. Farewell Ser, Robb, Theon…" she glanced to the suddenly dim bastard who stood quietly, _embarrassed,_ to the side. "... _Snow_ " she remarked coldly, turning quickly and dashing towards the great keep.

Jon stared after her, burned from her icy remark. _Jackass_...he thought of himself. He watched her walk away quickly, never once throwing a saving glance like she had earlier in the courtyard. He frowned at the observation, internally cringing at his actions moments before. He couldn't understand why he had acted that way...or what came over him. He'd never reacted that way before in training, or towards any _girl_ for that matter. It was like something _animalistic_ had taken him over…

"What the bloody fuck was _that_?" Greyjoy guffawed at the Jon, nearly toppling over in reminisce of the scene. "Did you spill your seed on her too, Snow?"

Jon glared at him, tossing his dummy to the side and storming from the training grounds, Theon's laugh trailing mockingly after him. Robb pushed Theon angrily, ceasing the lad's banter. Theon scowled in response at the young wolf. "Leave him be, Greyjoy…"

Robb stared after his bastard brother, sympathetic. Though, he couldn't quite shake what he had saw either. Jon had never behaved in such manner before…

... _especially towards a girl._

—

Eliesse sunk low in her bath as Thara raked her fingers through the girl's, shoulder length, wild curls. "What troubles you, my flower?" She called quietly to the the young girl who seemed to be besieged in thought beyond her years. The room crackled quietly from the fire burning in the furnace, the two women's figures dancing in shadow across the cobblestone walls.

"Nothing...hungry, I suppose" she replied distractedly.

But in truth, the girl's mind was a bustle of Jon. _Stupid, fucking Jon Snow._ _ **Handsome**_ **,** _stupid, fucking…_

She rose suddenly from the waters. Thara stared at the girl, shocked at her sudden brazenness. "Eliesse! You have soaked the floors! Silly girl…" she scolded lightly, grabbing cloths. "Be still, my flower. I've had to use your only cloths. Soak in the tub and await my return...I must find you fresh ones" Thara rose from her stool and quietly disappeared through the chamber doors, shutting them quietly. Eliesse sighed deeply, sinking once more into the warm waters. Even the thought of _him_ turned her mad...she listened to the soft patter of Thara's footsteps as they trailed silently down the winding stairs of the tower.

Eliesse stared silently at the walls of the chamber, replaying over and over the scene at the courtyard. She'd never been bested so _embarrassingly_ before at sparing...and by a fucking northerner!

Over and over the young girl played the memory again in her head, attempting to identify the error in her sparing...was it her footing? Perhaps she let her guard down too long…

 _Perhaps you got lost in those stormy, grey eyes..._ Her mind taunted to her. She shook her head, trying to shake the haunting, brooding look from her mind that seemed to leech onto the memory.

" _A man is the death of a woman's strength"_ She recalled her cousin Obara taunting at her when she had caught her ogling the fisherman's son many years ago. Eliesse grit her teeth in frustration, soaring once more from the bath that had suddenly grown too hot.

The sound of repeated, soft thuds filled her room.

Eliesse glanced around, her eyes following the sound waves quietly. Her eyes fell once more to her window that was lit defyingly by the moon. She stalked quietly to it, peering through its fogged lense.

She blushed, shrinking from its canvas suddenly. _It was_ _ **him**_.

She dropped to her knees, fingers trembling as she lifted her nose just above the pane of the glass. Jon was swatting a training dummy with his wooden sword. The glow of the moonlight lit his figure up from beneath the yard, placing a spotlight on his dark body.

Eliesse watched curiously, wondering why he was alone. She could vaguely hear from the hall across the yard, the playing of music and laughter of folk who had begun to fill the Stark's feasting hall. She wondered why he chose to strike a dummy in the dead still of the cold night, instead of celebrating with his other siblings…

Suddenly, the reason blared loud and clear in her mind…

... _Bastard._

She frowned slightly, watching his focused eyes strike away. She folded her tanned arms under her head and she supported her gaze of the young wolf. She quietly counted away his blows, noticing he too counted each strike...she lost herself for a moment, rising from her spot on the chamber floors and leaning into the window to get a better view of the bastard boy.

He stopped for a mere second, panting tiredly. His hair was soaked in angst as he tiredly brushed his wet curls from his dark eyes. He huffed low and darkly, moist air swelling before him. He stopped for a second, turning up to the window where the Dornish girl stood, _bare_ and dripping.

She froze, eyes wide as he stared up at her in the tower's window. She was unsure if he could truly see her through the darkness of the night...let alone, the fogged, icy window of her chamber.

Still, the girl did not move.

Jon watched up, seeing the soft, olive silhouette of the girl and knowing it was truly her.

 _She was_ _ **naked**_ _._

He froze, eyes slightly shocked and mouth agape once more in awe of her glowing figure. It was like she was truly the sun...her warm, sun kissed body ablaze and lighting up the usually dim tower. He thought he could vaguely make out the budding swells of her breast, the cut in her nearly sculpted waist…

He quickly looked away, the heat returning to his chest once more. _He didn't want her to think of him as a menace...or pervert._

He dropped his training sword swiftly and walked brisk towards the great hall, a glance not spared in the Dornish lady's direction.

She shrank from the window, embarrassed once more. She bit her lip in sheer annoyance and _need_. She couldn't understand _why_ she craved this stupid boy's attention so, or why his dark features bewitched her mind.

Thara burst through the chamber's doors once more, linens in hand. "Eliesse, get away from the window! You'll catch your death!" She scolded, rushing to engulf the girl's dripping frame in warm cloths.

Eliesse's head dropped to the floor, her eyes unwilling to meet her handmaiden's curious stare. "Why does the bastard boy bewitch you?" Thara suddenly spoke, arms rubbing up and down the girl's small body in attempt to rid it of wet and coldness. Eliesse's head shot up, shock dripping from her beautiful features. Surely, the girl shouldn't be surprised— _nothing_ gets passed Thara.

"I—

"Shh, my flower...you are a woman becoming...though, I would warn you to tread lightly. We are not in Dorne...a bastard and a lady is punishable by death in these lands" Thara whispered for the girl's ears only…

Eliesse turned a bright shade of red, embarrassment washing over her face suddenly. "I don't _care_ about that—that _stupid—_

" _My flower..._ please...just... _be careful_ …" Thara whispered quickly, her slender finger falling on the young girl's trembling lips. Eliesse stared defeatedly, eyes low. _Thara knew her too well._

Thara pulled the young girl's red dress over her head, fastening it in silence. Eliesse watched as her small, budding breast shon defiantly through the sheer fabric of the bodice. _It was truly a Dornish dress_. Nothing and all left to the imagination at the same time.

She turned slightly, allowing Thara to adjust and fix its length and tie the glowing straps. It dipped dangerously low in the front, back bare for all to feast on glowing flesh…

"Beautiful" Thara breathed quietly, brushing a defiant curl behind the young girl's ear. And the handmaiden was correct...the young Viperess looks striking in her dress. She defied beauty…and resembled _so much_ her mother…

A quick knock broke the stillness of the chamber. Thara eyed Eliesse quietly, walking swiftly to the doors. She opened them curiously, revealing a shy, Robb Stark.

He cleared his throat nervously, fingers trembling at his side. "H—hello, my lady...my mother thought it would be best if I escorted you to the feasting hall for dinner...she would love if you sat among the rest of us at the head table" Robb blushed suddenly, capturing the young girl in his gaze. He took in the ripe sight of her breast and figure, dripping in fine, Dornish silk. His mouth suddenly ran dry.

"Of course. I'd be honored" Eliesse spoke evenly, her confidence radiating between the two. Thara smiled quietly, stepping silently to the side.

Robb extended a hand, to which the young girl took it softly. He drew it once more to his lips, laying a gentle kiss upon it. She blushed slightly at the gesture. No matter how many times he did it, it always felt like he first time. She glanced to her side at Thara who stifled a laugh behind her small, calloused fingers. In merely a day, Eliesse had encountered more men that she had been subjected to in her entire life. She didn't quite know how to behave...the only example she had was of her older cousins who seemed to _taunt_ and toy with men…

Robb Stark bid a polite farewell to Thara, before leading the girl down the cobblestone steps. His chest thundered nervously as she meekly glanced every now and then to the proud lioness... _she was truly beautiful_ and the fact enerved the young wolf more than he wanted to be known. He had raved to his mother and father all night about the lioness, gushing of her dueling skill and how she bested Theon...he left out her little match with Jon, however.

 _He knew his mother would disapprove and likely scold the poor boy._

Through the great courtyard and crisp night, he led Eliesse to the feasting chambers of Winterfell. The guards opened the doors swiftly, the sound of jest, music and drunken men engulfing the nervous girl suddenly. Just as quickly, the doors shut behind her, as Robb led her to their table…

—

Eliesse picked at her plate quietly, surrounded by drunk northern men who eyed the girl hungrily, never regarding her age once. She ignored the famished stares. _It was nothing she wasn't use to._

She sat amongst the other Stark children who chatted happily about the day and questioned Eliesse's olive skin and striking features. "Is it true in Dorne, women _fight?"_ young Arya beckoned, eyes bright in wonder and hope. Eliesse smiled at the young wolf girl, seeing a small sliver of herself in her bold spirit.

"Yes, it is true. I started training around my sixth name day" Eliesse smiled sweetly, popping a potato in her mouth. Arya's eyes widened in wonder and joy.

" _Father! Mother! I want to live in Dorne! I want to be a warrior too!"_ She whined, her eyes pleading and desperate. Eliesse chuckled slightly, feeling sad for the northern girl who'd surely be cursed to dresses and knitting for the remainder of her life, until she'd be wed off to some sad, _pathetic_ man. She cringed for the Winterfell girls...though she was sure that was a life Sansa _dreamed_ of.

 _What a sad life..._ she thought.

"Arya! Quiet!" Lady Catelyn whispered sternly to the young girl. She frowned, sinking into her seat defeatedly. Lady Stark went back to chatting with her husband and Lord Arryn...matters of _wildlings_ and _honor_ gracing their shushed words.

Eliesse glanced from her plate, across the hall to the guards table where her gaze fell onto a brooding boy she craved. Jon ate silently, eyes down at his plate in fear of Catelyn Stark's attention. _She warned him to mind his own…_

The guards were drunk and foolish. They spoke of kitchen wenches and whores...some who they had gotten to...others they hadn't. "Oi, that one _whore_ , Anna...breast bigger than her fooken' brains...I'd have a go at her…" one guard boomed, earning a chorus of banter from the rest of his commadres.

" _Aye...Pattsy has been looking ripe...how old be the girl now? Ten and six? Perfect for a breaking in if ye ask me!"_ Again, fist pummeled the old wood of the table as a roar of men boomed in drunken laughter.

" _And that fooken' Lannister girl...aye, the Tiger of Casterly Rock...I'd sell my mother to shove my cock between those full, pink lips of hers...and I ain't talking about the ones of that pretty little face"_ A unknown guard boomed causing a jest of cheers and laughter to soar among the guards.

Jon stood abruptly, his chest burning in a rage he couldn't understand. The thought of the Guard dishonoring _his_ Eliesse…

He shook his head suddenly, startled by his possessive thought. _She did not belong to him…_

...but he wished she _had._

The guard who spoke stared defyingly at the bastard, his nose turnt up and beckoning of the lad to speak ill to him. Jon stared back, eyes menacing and full of a rage unfamiliar to those who knew usually the quiet boy. "Is there a problem, _Snow?"_ The guard warned, pulling his dark beard warning like.

Jon's chest heaved, his stare never weakening or shifting. Suddenly, he felt eyes like daggers on his face. _Aye, he knew those daggers well._

He turned quietly meeting _Lady Stark's_ icy gaze. He quickly averted his eyes down, not willing to dishonor his father and thwart her word she threatened upon him earlier in the day.

Without a sound, he rose from the guard table, darting for the great hall doors. The hall fell quiet as he rushed away, embarrassment and shame hot on his heel. He did not notice the blazing eyes that followed.

Quickly, he burst into the icy, northern air, chest heaving in an anger the boy had never known in his entire life, and for such _childish_ reasons. Over and over, the guard's words rang loud and sharp in his ears, causing his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He _hated_ hearing someone talk about _his_ Eliesse. He froze at the thought wearily.

She wasn't _his._

 _And she never would be._

He took off towards the Godswood, his eyes straight and unwavering to their destination. The northern air howled at the young boy, eliciting a shiver up his broadening back. Though this was his home, the _only_ home he'd ever known, it wasn't always kind to him, nor the people so welcoming.

Since the time he could remember, as an innocent boy, the stares and whispers in his direction had taunted him. " _There go the bastard…"_ he could recall, fresh in his mind.

His father did what he could to make the boy feel at ease in his home. Lord Eddard Stark was a good man and fair to all his brood. He undoubtedly loved the bastard boy just as much as his own true-born sons and daughters. And his siblings were fair as well...Robb was his _best friend._ Even on the days where he thought jealousy would swallow him whole for the true-born boy, he loved him like no other. He could find no quivering bone in his body that would hate his brother...and even though Sansa were sometimes the meanest and ignorant of his fathers brood, he loved her all the same, though he wondered if she could return the feeling.

It was true, Winterfell was a northern dream hidden in icy, grey clouds...a home he would only ever know, filled with love that would be only true from there. And even on the days where Lady Stark would torment the boy or shun him from family activities, he still loved her the best he could. For the boy was raised with a heart soft and honorable...and her the only mother he would know in his entire life.

 _Even if she didn't see him as her own._

He couldn't blame her. His father had ripped her heart aloud and worse than any living soul could...and _he_ was the constant reminder that _she_ would never be his _only_. It was certain, whomever Jon's mother was, Ned loved her fiercely…for his seed blossomed a flower he would never pick and cast away when it grew dull and limp.

Jon's silent steps crunched the crisp red leaves around him as he neared the old, weirwood tree. Smells of pine and oak filled his nose as he neared closer to the strange tree that frowned at him. Jon recalled a time when he, Robb and Theon were younger and would take turns betting on who could stare the longest at the strange tree in the midst of the night... _he always won._

Jon quietly stood before the ancient heart tree, it's sap flowing sorrow and strange knowledge down its warped face. He knelt before the black water, staring at the strange obscured reflection of himself. He closed his eyes, _praying_ to any God...new or old…

 _...Why does this girl besiege my mind and every thought?_

"What in the seven hells are you up to, Snow?" Jon's eyes flew open though he made no attempt to turn. He knew that voice from anywhere...even if he had only heard it a few times.

 _Her._

 _Her wretched voice cursed his mind..._ though you'd hear no complaint from him.

 _The God's had a sense of humor, it would seem._

"Praying" He replied quietly, never turning to face his temptress. A swift breeze shook the canopying leaves of the Godswood, sending another fair chill up the bastard wolf's back. He heard the girl snort, unimpressed. He smirked silently to himself at her fiery attitude.

" _Praying?_ To who?"

"The Gods"

"Who's _Gods?"_

"My own"

"That's stupid"

"Perhaps to you" Jon stood finally, a gentle and amused smile on his brooding face.

There she stood, in all her cursed glory. Her pretty, olive face sported a slight red glow in her round cheeks...it would seem the northern chill had finally laid a lasting kiss upon the Dorne girl...her hair, tied once more in a neat bun...the red ribbon securing it high, and proud on her head...her dress... _the Gods were_ _ **truly**_ _cruel..._ her dress, sheer in all the most tempting places, tight in the others...as red and bold as she...her full, pout...pressed into a doubtful frown. Jon chuckled at this, earning another scowl from the young girl.

"Why did you leave the feast so suddenly?" Eliesse asked curiously, taking a daunting step towards the quiet lad. Jon stared at her, watching the red dress flutter at her legs from the cool wind. She grasped her arms, finally feeling the chill that was Winterfell.

Jon shrugged his wolf pelt off, quickly walking to the girl. "You'll catch your death in the north if you continue to pretend your in Dorne" he slowly raised it to the girl, wrapping it gently around her small shoulders. She stared at him, all the whilst, watching his mouth...his chin, eyes...hair…she mentally cursed herself for each, intrusive observation. She turned from his gaze once more.

"As long as they send my body back to Dorne, I could care less where my death comes from" She remarked cooly, pulling the furs closer around her. She inhaled deeply, her eyes closing for a mere moment as she lost herself in the smell of firewood and pine... _she would never forget that smell for as long as she lived._

"That's a terrible thing to say"

"I'm a terrible person" she remarked quickly, cun boasting through golden eyes. Jon stared into them, losing himself for a moment. He blinked away from her, taking a calculated step from the Dornish girl. _He remembered who_ _ **he**_ _was and who_ _ **she**_ _were, too._

"You are anything but, I would guess"

"I suppose you'd be not just a bastard then, but an unlucky one too" she smirked, stepping to Jon and filling the intentional gap he tried to make between the two. _Please don't run away from me_ , she thought in her mind, though her lips refused to part and spill its secret.

"A bastard is always unlucky" Jon replied mechanically turning back to the strange heart tree. "Why did you follow me?" He demanded, never turning to meet Eliesse's searching gaze.

She shifted in her dress, fingers clinging to the boy's pelt. "I wanted to spend time with you. _Alone_ " she whispered.

Jon turned suddenly, shock bewitching his face. He stared at Eliesse in wonder and awe...why on earth would she want to spend time with him?

 _Alone?_

He cocked an eyebrow at her. She laughed suddenly, the sound ringing through the Godswood like wind chimes and angelic banter. "Everyone else here is boring. But you are not boring, Jon Snow. You are anything but. And by the way you watch me...I think you want to spend time with me, too" she smirked suddenly, mischief and lust drowning her golden orbs. Jon stared at the girl, mild shock surging through his body and face. Eliesse was not incorrect…

"What do you want from me?" He whispered quietly, staring at the strange girl.

 _Everything and then nothing,_ Eliesse thought to herself in truth. "Company. Real, true, company. No one has ever beat me in sparring...sometimes people let me win...but you didn't. I want to spar with you...and train...and…" she stared at Jon Snow, unsure what the other, _dark_ part of her wanted...there was an aching in her that began at her heart and travelled low to her tummy whenever Jon Snow was around...and when he was close, sometimes it travelled _lower,_ and bubbled away at her innocence. Her heart became frantic at the silent thought, and as memories trickled back to her from the training yard...the way he grabbed at the girl and forced her under him…

She shuddered involuntarily.

Jon watched her, concern washing over his dark features. "You're still cold" he observed, taking a trying step towards her. He brought his fingers to the pelt clasp, pulling it tighter around her neck. He was so close to her, he could smell the sugary fragrance that wafted off the girl...something earthy and sweet…perhaps wild lily and cinnamon.

Eliesse stared up at the silent boy, enjoying the proximity of him and his innocent touch. _She wanted something more...but didn't know what it was._ She lowered her face to his hands that fumbled the clasp of the wolf pelt that he attempted to fasten. She rested her lips upon his hand, her eyes drifting up to him silently, searching for a reaction to the sudden and quiet gesture. Jon stared back at the girl, eyes focused, mouth and lips parted and sucking in timid breaths.

Eliesse drew her hands from the pelt and lifted them slowly to meet Jon's own, suddenly trembling ones. She ran her warm, smooth finger across the back of Jon's hands...her eyes full of a lust she knew nothing of…

Jon breathed sharply, the sensation of the girl's fingers on his own causing a distant tremor to run up his legs and through his groin. He watched her finger intently as it drew provoking wisp about the back of his hand...Eliesse's eyes never breaking hold on his own.

"Eliesse…" he mumbled, the sensation suddenly becoming _too much_ yet _not enough_ , all at once.

Eliesse smirked, taking a gentle hold of his suddenly trembling hand and bringing it once more to her lips like she had when they first met. Jon stared back at the girl, mesmerized and _turned on_. The wolf inside him suddenly woke, eyes glowing in the dark stillness of the den it lived.

Eliesse kissed each of Jon's fingers tenderly, never breaking that seducing gaze with the inexperienced boy. He melted into her stare, becoming prisoner to its magical hold. His breath quickened, as he felt himself become rock hard before the lioness.

The trees whispered soft warnings to the two raging youths, though none of them heeded their silent words. They were lost in the strange moment... _lost in each other_ and the strange heat they offered to one another.

"Eliesse...please" Jon suddenly whispered, afraid his voice would shatter the intimate moment between them that he wished could carry on for a lifetime. "If you keep this up, I won't be able to spend any more time with you...not if you're constantly making me become this desperate"

Eliesse dropped his hand gently, her smile widening triumphantly. _She had him wrapped around her tiny, littlest finger._ "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over myself. I suppose I just wanted to show my gratitude to you for your chivalry" she smirked once more, eyeing the pelt that warmed her so.

Jon blushed, his eyes on the ground and heart thundering beneath a heaving chest. "Of course, my lady"

"Don't call me that" she suddenly spoke, harsh and biteful.

Jon snapped his gaze up, confused at what he had said to trouble the girl. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't call me _lady_...if we are going to be friends, then you will call me by my name, as a friend would. Eliesse"

"Ellie" Jon smiled small, a rare, true laugh erupting from his adolescent chest. "I like Ellie".

"I don't...but I suppose I'll allow it" Eliesse rolled her eyes, turning away from the Godswood and heart tree that had suddenly become more watchful of the two. The strange red sap of its eyes had become brighter, more _fluid_ than the two could remember.

They disregarded the ominous tree, and turned on the pathway, walking back to the feasting hall before anyone would question their joint absence.

 _A bizarre gust of wind shook the Godswood as many red leaves began to fall after the young boy and girl…_

—

Jon Snow was true to his word to the young lioness.

In the days that came quickly and ended just as sudden, he spent every moment he could with her.

Wherever the young girl went, Jon Snow would be closely in toe, his figure silent and unseen, as to not stir trouble for the two. He was a bastard, and she a highborn lady...their mingling would be frowned upon if witnessed by the _wrong_ folk.

It would seem, and very obvious so, that Jon had become smitten with the young lioness. He loved her spirit, her _fire_ that burned hot and true...her laugh and the way her nose would scrunch up in a fit of hilarity, but also in utter dismay…

... _he became good at telling which one were happening, too._

Aye, but he was not the only wolf eyeing its prey.

Robb Stark was around, too. _Irritatingly so_ , Jon would silently fester to the observation. He loved his brother, that was not untrue...and while his entire life he had to share his father's love and then be deprived of it as well, he did not wish to do the same with _his_ Ellie.

 _Sweet,_ _ **feisty**_ _Ellie..._ with a scowl and smile that would both chase away and call to a hundred men.

Jon had become possessive of the Dornish girl.

Where Jon had always been docile and quiet, he had become silently _possessive,_ and _demanding_ of Ellie's attention. He didn't want to share her with Robb...he didn't want to share her with _anyone_ for that matter. He would silently stew and brood whenever Robb or Theon would come searching for the pair, who often took long "walks" or rides on their steeds through the Godswoods. Innocent enough, the two would be sitting by the strange, black water of the heart tree, telling stories of their past and spilling quiet devotion to their future.

Eliesse wanted to become a great warrior like her mother…

...Jon wanted to be legitimized by the King and perhaps have a castle of his own one day, becoming a bannerman of some sort to Robb...who would no doubt inherit Winterfell and become Warden of the North.

The young boy and girl would whisper their dreams and heartaches to one enough under the strange weirwood tree...who each day, leaves grew redder and eyes more focused on the pair who would wander each day to its meadows.

 _They both yearned a mother's love…_

 _...and were deprived of a father's touch._

But the heart tree, Robb, Theon, and even Lord Stark himself were not the only eyes that followed Jon and Eliesse about Winterfell…and it would be their demise because of so.

Jon watched Eliesse in the great feasting hall, the night before she was to leave Winterfell. Though his heart silently ached, he managed to smile with the girl all day through her "stumbling upon" of him and his brothers training, and then again as he cleaned the stables.

" _I suppose this is it, then" She spoke proudly, tightening her reins on her horse. Jon watched quietly, leaning against the stables stalls. The smell of shit engulfed the two, though neither complained._

 _Their company was enough for each._

" _It isn't" he whispered for her ears only. Eliesse snorted, never turning to meet the bastard's brooding stare that possessed her fiery soul._

" _Oh?" She turned to meet his eyes that were softly fixed on her suddenly trembling lip. She turned away hastily, not wanting Jon to see_ _ **this**_ _side of her…_

 _...her_ _ **weak**_ _side._

" _I will find you. I would find you in any lifetime, Ellie" he muttered, closing the gap between them. She stared up into his stormy eyes, her own drifting into a sadness she didn't think possible. She wanted to believe him, but couldn't._

 _Men lie._

 _Her father was proof to that fact._

" _Whatever, Snow," she pushed away from his suddenly hot figure. "Tell Thara I've gone for a ride" she called over her shoulder as she pulled herself atop the great horse and thrashed her reins, begging the steed to take her anywhere but before Jon._

 _A silent tear trickled down her face._

Jon recalled watching her gallop away in anger. He shook his head after her, though the pain she felt radiated toward him. He slumped against the stable walls, eyes wandering above him to the rickety roof.

" _Meet me in the Godswood"_ he whispered in her ear later in the day as he passed her briefly in the courtyard. Eliesse made no expression to the boy's words, for eyes were always watchful in Winterfell. But even despite her best efforts, she smiled small, a tender warmth circulating her body and leaving her aglow in the chilly yard. She quietly glanced over her shoulder to the dark haired boy, her eyes as soft as her heart felt whenever he was near.

It was true…

 _..._ _ **she loved Jon Snow**_ …

 _...and he, she._

Though neither of the stubborn pair would speak of their feelings legitimacy, they both knew it was there. _The feeling was enough._ And the way their eyes could find one another in the constant bustle of the castle, was ample assurance on its own.

The feeling hurt just as bad as it felt good. Especially with Eliesse's departure looming over the two childish lovers...they never spoke of the fact.

Eliesse ate her food quickly, peering up every now and then at the drunken fools before her in the great hall. The guard table was a slew of burley men spewing pork and wine over themselves and poor kitchen maids and wenches. The jesters too, were as drunk as the great Lord's...and speaking of _great Lords,_ Lord Arryn was red and hot faced with ale, and Ned Stark not too far behind. They drank to their triumphs and memories a lifetime away...and to their woes...a girl named _Lyanna_ slipping from their lips endlessly throughout the night.

Eliesse was pleased. She was sure that her departure would go unnoticed...for most of the great hall was drunk and celebrating the Royal Guards last stay in the cold north.

But blue eyes found her.

And those eyes followed hers that rested on the quiet bastard, across the hall.

Catelyn Stark rose from her seat and walked quietly to the young, unsuspecting girl.

She was the curious stare that followed the pair in the many days since their first meeting in the Godswood. And though Lady Stark fought and beckoned to her Warden husband, he would hear nothing of her odd woes.

" _Children make friend" He replied one night, within their chambers. Catelyn huffed with her great, bear pelt around her frail body. She had witnessed Jon and Eliesse chatting endlessly in the Godswood earlier in the day when she went to pay her respects._

" _He follows her everywhere...watches her! It is inappropriate for a bastard to—_

" _He is my_ _ **son**_ —

" _A son not of my own!" Catelyn remarked angrily. Ned watched her sadly, his eyes shifting to the wisping fire of their chambers. She frowned suddenly, eyes shutting. She loved Ned...yes...he made his mistakes...war brought out dormant parts of men...but she forgave him….though each time she looked at Jon Snow, it was a painful reminder that the woman could not accept._

" _She...is a highborn lady...yes, children are friends...but you should be encouraging her to spend time with_ _ **Robb**_ _...not Jon. The Lannisters are powerful and lay direct claim to the throne. It would not be a strange idea to wed—_

" _They are_ _ **children**_ _, my love. Let children be…" Ned whispered quietly, joining his wife in their bed. He pressed an assuring, tender kiss to her chapped lips. "Besides, they leave soon...and all of this won't matter, there after…" he kissed her once more, rolling ontop the festering woman._

"Eliesse, my sweet. I hope you have enjoyed your time here in the north...the weather was fair to you, it would seem. My first visit to the north was graced with a winter storm so strong and true, I nearly caught my death and was bedridden for several nights…" Catelyn Stark smiled sweetly. She was not a horrible woman...though Eliesse felt a tinge of resentment for her from how she treated Jon.

Still, she would not regard the fact that Catelyn was soft and kind, and _so loving_ to her children, and unquestionably welcoming to the Dornish girl. Eliesse smiled sweetly.

"The north has been more than I would've imagined. I am sad to leave" it was true. Eliesse was saddened to leave...but sad only for a boy who's love she would be taught to not accept. "I will miss your family, _dearly"_

"And Robb, too? I would hope" Catelyn suddenly said, eyeing the girl playfully. Eliesse blushed in embarrassment, though Lady Stark was content with her reaction, misinterpreting it for a silent crush instead of an accusation _far_ from the truth.

"Robb _undoubtedly..._ I will miss him dearly" Eliesse smiled sweetly, playing on the woman's heart. Catelyn sighed in relief, her curious mind being silenced finally. Naively, she was sure Eliesse would be departing the north, dreaming of her first born Robb…

...but not for too long, hopefully.

"Well, I won't be a bother too long. I wanted to give you my kindest regards...Winterfell was warmer in your presence, my sweet" She smiled softly at the girl, touching her shoulder in a kindness Eliesse knew only a mother could hold.

"Will you be coming back?" Arya Stark suddenly asked Eliesse as her mother strutted away. She stared in awe at the lioness. In the weeks she had been at Winterfell, Arya had taken closely to the Dornish girl. She watched how she walked… _how she trained..._ Eliesse had even shown the young wolf girl a few tricks in archery.

"Perhaps maybe one day as a visit...but my home is beyond a vast sea, in a land where the sun never sets...that is where I hope I will end up" Eliesse smiled, stroking the small girl's wild hair. Arya's eyes shimmered in a devotion she could only hold for the lioness...she too, wished to follow the girl to that land.

Eliesse glanced up, her eyes meeting an empty place where Jon had once sat. Curiously, she looked about the great hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of the brooding boy she'd fallen in love with.

But he was nowhere to be found.

Eliesse rose silently from her seat, her head turning to the great doors of the hall.

 _They were slightly opened, a sheer chill seeping through the still crack_ of _its opening…_

She stepped in its direction quietly.

"Eliesse"

She turned suddenly, _Robb Stark_ in her sight. "Robb" she replied pleasantly. He gestured her over to the open floor that had suddenly become a bustle of drunken fools and swooning women. Shyly and unsurely, she stalked to the young wolf who's cheeks were rosy with drunkenness as well.

Boys were not _usually_ allowed to drink…

...but the event gave way to a lighter rule in Winterfell.

"You...look beautiful, as always" he whispered as he took her hands gently. She smiled small, meeting his blue glare. Robb was handsome, she would not deny that...and he was sweet, and gentle...full of honor and truth. Something most men were absent of. He was always kind to the brazen girl...always greeted her with a sweet kiss laid upon russet flesh...she blushed every time, unsure what it meant.

"And you dashing...as always" she smiled, taking his hand. He swayed her softly to the soft music, his eyes never leaving her gold ones. His fingers trembled nervously...though he grasped the girl confidently, his heart gave way to its insecurity.

He admired her, his searing heart beckoning whenever she was near. She was the prettiest lady he'd ever seen…most nights, he'd rave to his mother and father about her beauty, witt and smile. They'd listen, exchanging funny looks and soft smiles between each other.

"I'm sad to see you go...the north will grow colder in your absence"

"I suppose you'll have to visit me in the south to render some warmth" Eliesse replied curtly, smiling at the dashing boy. She brushed a defiant red curl behind his ear subconsciously as he spoke. He chuckled, letting go her hand for a moment to brush a stray curl back from her eye as well. She sucked in a sharp breath at the motion, her heart fluttering slightly.

"...perhaps...you could stay" he whispered for her ears only. Their swaying stopped as she stared into his searching eyes. His loose fingers trailed from her hair, to her swelling lips...which he brushed ever so sweetly and gentle with his index finger. "I _want_ you to stay" he muttered quietly.

He cupped the young girl's face between trembling fingers, inching closer to her face. Eliesse's heart screamed, and then submitted once more as Robb's lips tenderly brushed her own.

Her eyes, once open and screaming in protest had suddenly closed at the foreign sensation.

Robb had stolen her first kiss from underneath her button nose...and she put up a scarce fight to retrieve it.

Softly, their lips danced. Eliesse felt Robb pull her slightly closer, to which she gasped in protest of the feeling. She pulled away quickly, her eyes wide and unnerved. "Robb, I...I didn't know you _felt…"_

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't of...I just...Eliesse, if I have offended...Theon and the guards have fed me wine all night...they said it would _help_ me speak to you. Gods...I'm sorry" he whispered, dropping the girl's hand and waist.

Eliesse shook her head, flustered but not wanting to embarrass the kind boy any further than he'd done himself. "No, Robb, don't apologize...I...will miss you too…" she smiled softly, squeezing his hand. Robb smiled small, his eyes low and shy once more. He met her gaze confidently, his heart swirling a _different_ desire in her presence.

"Until we meet again, sweet Eliesse" he pressed a quick kiss to her hand, backing away slowly. She smiled softly at the Stark boy as his figure finished into the whir of music and laughter of the great hall.

 _And suddenly, it was replaced with him._

 _ **Jon Snow.**_

Jon watched wide eyed as Eliesse stood across the hall. His brother left the damsel to return to a bantering guard table who had watched the entire exchange. He was patted on the back, _rewarded_ with more wine for his bravery. But that was not what Jon had cared for.

 _He kissed her…_

 _...and she kissed him back._

"Jon" Eliesse whispered for his ears only. Her heart thundered in embarrassment and sadness for the sight she was _sure_ the bastard saw.

 _Her._

 _In the arms of his_ _ **brother.**_

Jon turned quickly, dashing for the great halls doors. Eliesse watched in sadness, her stomach churning in sickness and guilt. _She didn't mean to!_ It all happened so quick…one moment she searched for Jon...the next, his brother was there...and drunk...and she didn't know why she let him touch her so.

Eliesse followed after Jon quickly, stumbling through the hot, sweating bunch of Winterfell's folk. Men grabbed at the girl, and women too.

" _Where are you running off to, girl?"_

" _Stay a while, sweet…"_

Eliesse pushed through the ailing crowd and finally squeezing through the halls doors. The northern air nipped her breast angrily as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Jon!" She called out in dead stillness. The sound the the wind howling was all that replied, an unfamiliar chill laying defiant bites on her warm skin.

She trudged on through the courtyard, following soft footprints she knew to belong to the boy who possessed her mind so sharply. On and on, the footsteps led to the opening of the great, Godswood, trekking deeper into the still meadow.

Her heart thundered in worry as she anticipated finding Jon Snow.

 _Would he yell at her?_

Perhaps he would cast her away and scream at her, cursing her a whore for locking lips with his brother…

Her eyes met the ominous heart tree...though Jon Snow as not there.

Eliesse turned quietly, searching for the soft prints she had been following.

Onward they led through the strange forest…

Eliesse followed them undoubtedly and uncaring for what could've lay before her. Her only thought was the bastard boy that she loved and hurt in the same breath...she couldn't end her last night in Winterfell like this…

...not with Jon hating her, so.

She broke a brush clearing, where steam rose into the dark, northern sky.

 _And there he was._

 _ **Naked**_ _, in all his glory._

Jon splashed the hot spring water to his face, trying to wash away the image of Eliesse engulfed in Robb from his mind. His heart trembled and loins hurt in anger and despair for the love he held for the highborn girl…

 _...a love he would hide for the rest of his existence, if need be._

A tree branch snapped, giving way to the young girl.

Jon turned suddenly, eyes wide in shock at the Dornish girl before him.

Eliesse stared at Jon, her heart throbbing painfully and eyes stinging with sorrow she couldn't comprehend. "Jon…" she whispered quietly to the suddenly still Godswood and silent boy before her.

Jon turned completely to the lioness, eyes wide and nervous for a reason he couldn't understand. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?" He whispered, blushing slightly. He was suddenly aware of his bareness before the Dornish girl.

Eliesse stared quietly, her lips trembling between her teeth that had grasped it in angst.

Slowly, she shrugged out of her silk dress.

It pooled at her feet, timidly.

Jon's eyes widened as Eliesse stepped forward slowly, her small and budding breast boasting towards him. He shrank lower in the water, feeling himself harden at the sight of her olive flesh and smooth plains of womanhood, that had just begun sprouting hair.

Eliesse slowly stepped into the hot spring, relishing the warmth it beckoned. Softly, she stepped, until she was waist deep and mere steps from a suddenly shy Jon Snow. "Eliesse…" he mumbled quietly, watching her breast shimmer in the brisk moonlight. His eyes ravaged her slender, immature body...he felt himself hardening more and more under the cover of the springs...he felt as though he would spill his seed if she even _brushed_ his leg…

"Jon, I never meant to...Robb...it was not intentional" she whispered, finally coming to stand before the bastard wolf. Jon stared down at her, his hand suddenly raising to graze her soft, warm arm.

Eliesse closed her eyes at the sensation of his fingertips on her. "...you're so soft...you're always _so soft…"_ he whispered huskily, his other hand resting on the girl's smoldering flesh. Slowly, he retracted his touch from her. He was still shy in Eliesse's presence, unsure if his words or actions would be deemed inappropriate to her.

Eliesse opened her eyes, grabbing his hand that suddenly withdrew its friction on her arm. She leaned into him, placing it onto a budding breast. Jon's eyes widened at the sudden hot, sensation. He had never felt something so _wonderful_.

Eliesse squeezed his hand overtop her bosom, her eyes drifting shut once more. She bit a plump, red lip between desperate teeth, moaning softly at the boy's touch. _She wanted so much more,_ yet didn't know how to get it.

Jon rubbed and squeezed at the girl, pulling her closer to his bare frame. His manhood prodded and poked at the her, beckoning to where it wanted to truly be. Still, he ignored it, touching the girl softly at her bosom...his other hand gained confidence and rose, pulling the young lioness in at her waist.

Eliesse gasped, glancing up into Jon's eyes.

 _And he met her stare, unwaveringly and without a thought spared. She was_ _ **his**_ _, and only his._

"Jon...please, I need—

Jon silenced the young girl, crushing his lips to hers in a fury of impatience and need. Eliesse sighed deeply into the kiss, _finally satisfied._

 _She had waited so long to taste this bastard boy._

Jon pulled her harder against him, the feel of her breast exciting him further. He bit at her soft lips, nipping and sucking on the tender plains until they became bruised purple and tender. When she pulled away from the suddenly painful sensation, he took refuge between her breast.

 _He began kissing,_ _ **biting**_ _, and sucking at flushed skin._

Eliesse moaned aloud, her nails digging into the wild tresses of Jon's hair.

"You're mine...you'll always be mine" he growled against her hot flesh, his hand suddenly slipping beneath the sweltering water and between the girl's equally flushed legs. She sighed into the top of his head, squeezing her legs shut as Jon's fingers graced her entrance. She didn't want him to start something that they couldn't or _shouldn't_ finish.

"Always" She moaned into his crown as he raised his head and captured her in another fiery kiss. He was suddenly aggressive with her, though it turned her on more. She wouldn't _dare_ refuse the boy.

Jon lay defiant kisses upon her lips, neck and body all into the cold night...he promised her he would not take her yet. No, her maidenhood was _too_ precious and still _too_ young to steal so abruptly in a still night. " _Soon…"_ he whispered in her ear as she writhed, her middle searing and womanhood wet in desire. He made a promise under the watchful weirwood to leave Winterfell when he became a man, and find her. He would write her every day...and they would plot their escape together. For no one cared what a _bastard_ did or became...she was a highborn lady, and could do as she desired…when the time was right, he would go to her in the capital, or Casterly Rock...wherever she was and they would sail away, back to Dorne where their titles would be amiss and love the only thing that mattered.

The night trailed on quietly, the sound of Eliesse and Jon's quiet promises and breathy moans spilling into the soft night.

—

Eliesse saddled her horse quietly in the still dawn of the day. Her eyes were heavy, having spent a majority of the meek night in the Godswood with Jon Snow. Memories of his touch and soft words echoed her mind as she fumbled clumsily with her steed's reins.

"My flower...I did not hear you return last night" Thara walked quietly into the stable where the girl tiredly fumbled with her claspings and ropes. She blushed slightly, never meeting the maiden's knowing stare. " _Just tell me he has not dishonored you"_ she whispered quietly and quick, worry drowning her soft features. Eliesse turned an unpleasant shade of red, huffing at the woman. She was grateful that it was only her and Thara in the quiet Winterfell stables. Vaguely, across be yard, she could hear the King's Guard saddling and preparing for the long trek home.

"He has not. Jon has honor...more than I have, to say the least" she blushed suddenly, recalling her frantic pleas and beckons at the bastard boy to enter her wet, searing body. He would only smile small, and kiss her tenderly.

" _Not yet...soon"_ She recalled his whisper.

Thara sighed deeply, her eyes soft and pleased but warning in a playful manner. "Let ye hurry. Lord Arryn desires to be on the King's Road soon" without a sparring word, Thara exited the stable and ventured towards the convoy that was ready to depart the north.

Eliesse grabbed her steed by the reins, leading her out of Winterfell's stables for the last time. She entered the courtyard and was greeted with the site of men shaking arms and laughing once more before they parted ways.

And like the time when she had first arrived, the Stark children were lined up and awaiting the convoy's departure from their gates.

"Lord Stark...I pray to the Gods it will not be another eternity before we meet…" Lord Arryn grasped the Warden's arm, pulling him close. "May we meet again"

"Aye...sooner than later" Ned smiled. Catelyn bid the Hand of the King a friendly kiss on the cheek, as he squeezed her hand as well. Jon Arryn shook the hands of each Stark child...even Jon Snow whom was named in his honor.

Eliesse walked gracefully to the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. She bowed before them, smiling sweetly. "Thank you for your hospitality and kindness. It won't be forgotten" Eliesse smiled, laying a respectful kiss upon both Catelyn and Ned's hands. They smiled back, reassuringly to the young lioness.

"The honor was ours".

Eliesse walked to each Stark child, hugging and kissing them tenderly. She whispered in Arya's ear to never stop practicing...and that Dorne would always be a home to her if needle work and dresses became too boring. The wild girl smiled sweetly in awe of Eliesse.

"Robb" Eliesse smiled sweetly, staring at the bashful boy. When word travelled to him about his impromptu _kiss_ , he vowed to not leave his chambers until he was sure Eliesse was gone.

But his mother protested the choice adamantly.

"Until we meet again, Eliesse…" he smiled shyly, kissing her hand as always. He laughed quietly, winking at the lioness. She returned his banter with a wink of her own.

And then, there was Jon.

 _But she knew better_.

They had said their goodbyes in the Godswood...promising to meet once more...promising to run away to a sweltering land...promising to marry and have _many_ defiant, wolf pups…

He watched the girl quietly as she pulled herself on top of her steed. The familiar horn sounded as Winterfell's great gates opened once more. Out poured the convoy, glittering of white and gold pooling from the gloomy gates.

Soon, the courtyard emptied as the Stark children returned to their usual activities. Lord and Lady Stark too, left, leaving to their own duties across the great castle.

 _But Jon stayed._

He waited silently as Eliesse was mere moments from crossing the great gates. His heart thundered painfully, though he silenced its woes. _He made a promise._

Eliesse turned on her steed, just before Winterfell's gates enveloped the small girl on her white horse.

Without a glance spared from curious eyes, she ripped the pretty red ribbon from her hair. Her golden curls fell defiantly to her shoulders. She glanced at Jon Snow behind her who watched, mesmerized by her beauty.

 _She pressed a gentle kiss to the ribbon and threw it towards him._

Without another glance, she trotted through the gates just as they'd closed.

Jon ran to the red silk askew on the dirt ground. He picked it up, fingering it's fine fabric between coarse limbs. He glanced up at the gates, smiling softly.

 _He would write her tonight._

 _And every night, if he had to, just to remind her of how much he yearned for her. How true his promises...and how soon he'd run from frigid gates into her warm arms._

And though their love for one another burned as fierce as the Dorne sun itself, it was no match for a cold fate...

 _...No letter would ever reach the Dornish girl._

And after five long years, she'd given up hope that it would ever come.


	6. Chapter 6

"Eliesse...my daughter, you must rise...Lord Arryn's body awaits in the throne room…"

Eliesse Lannister lay still in her bed, swooning her suddenly cold frame with pelts of bear and sheep skin. She clutched at the soft sheets, pulling them tighter around her tired body.

Lord Arryn was dead.

Yes, it was true. The old man died yesterday morn. After writhing in agony for two days, Maester Pycelle gave the ailing Hand milk of the poppy to allow a merciful exit of this cruel world.

And so, the proud man's body lay out in state in the throne room of the Red Keep. The Silent Sisters worked in hush, whisking candles and burning scents about the grim room...though, the smell of death lingered unrighteously, despite.

Tyrion placed a hand on the young woman's back. Eliesse was a child no more, her seventeenth name day had come and gone in the sweltering heat of a passing summer. She bitterly recalled dancing with Lord Arryn at her name day feast, whose smile had aged considerably since their first encounter in the council chambers, many years ago.

" _Eliesse Lannister...a woman now of seven and ten...you have blossomed into more than anyone in this blasted capital could've hoped…and some could've wished not. Still, beautiful, true and strong you are...tread lightly young tiger. The walls listen and ceilings bare watchful eyes. You are not what they hoped...but still, they will try their damndest to make you as such. Be strong. You are unbent, my sweet, Dorne princess"._

Eliesse rose from her pillow, her night dressing still remained, though drooped at its bosom. She closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon and roses... _her father's doing, no doubt._

It was his favorite.

"I know...how close the two of you were, Ellie…" Tyrion muttered quietly, eyes down and avoiding of his beautiful daughter's aged stare. Her eyes held a wise knowingness beyond her years, as gold quickly hardened and turned cold. Eliesse shifted suddenly, her eyes striking into the dwarf in a fierceness he had come to know true of the girl.

"You know nothing, Lord Tyrion. The Seven _would_ damn me to this place without a guarding eye no longer...truth be told, I can't rely on you for much these days" She rose suddenly from her bed, stripping from her timid gown. She turned to her father sharply, uncaring of her nakedness or his potential discomfort with it so. "Why have you come to call for me? Where is Thara?"

"Bidding her farewells to Lord Arryn" Tyrion answered dryly, walking to the small bedside table. He drew his chalice of summerwine quietly, bringing the sweet, red liquid to his suddenly parched lips.

 _He knew he had failed the girl as a father._

When Eliesse had returned from the north five years ago after being gone for nearly two moons, he did little to replace the lost time.

He never sent for the girl.

He never awaited her in her chambers.

He went on in his indecent business, finding refuge in the finest capital whore-house, instead.

Perhaps it was never ending shame that kept the imp astray from his ailing daughter...lonely, the young lioness would stalk the cold halls of the castle, her eyes low and avoiding of anyone who crossed her path.

Late at night, the young girl would remain awake, her quill and ink scratching fiercely into the early mornings...he would hear of the girl running tirelessly to the Maesters, small parchment in hand, devoted scrawl seeping through thin letter. " _Please, sir...send your swiftest raven…"_ Though each week, no letter would beckon in return…no word from whomever plagued the young girl's mind. Her woes would never be answered, her desperate scrawls ran cold and fell on silent ears wherever they were sent.

 _A pitty._

And so, perhaps that was the start of the young girl's fiery soul becoming dim. Her once smoldering gold eyes had lost its luster and grown hard and cold. She became defiant, ruthless and bitter. She smiled less with friends and became frank with foes...her uncle Jamie had noticed a sudden urgency and maliciousness in her sparing style, so much so that he cut the girl off a year earlier. " _She's too angry...I fear what she intends with these newly learnt skills…"_ he would whisper to his brother in secret as the girl slumbered. But despite the effort, the motion had been set forth and she had learned a dangerous amount from her King Slayer uncle. And from what he refused to teach, she learned in forbidden corridors and by the hands of silent mercenaries who stalked the streets. When she couldn't find those men, she would call upon Thara and train with her instead.

 _For every Dorne woman was born with a blade alongside her wrappings._

When the young, defiant girl became too turbulent and bold for the dwarf's hands, he sent her back to Casterly Rock to live with her grandfather Tywin Lannister. And the old, proud lion of Casterly Rock loomed over the brass girl ominously.

 _Perhaps that is where the last of her soul became cold and hard._

Tyrion called upon his daughter only a few days earlier by raven...when news of Lord Arryn's death was prominent and true. The young girl came galloping through the capital on her own, no guard present for assurity.

Aye, it was the young Tiger of Casterly Rock on her steed she had named Snow, only a few days after returning from the north _._

 _Perhaps she had grown too found of the cold…_

"Very well, I will join her then" Eliesse spoke mechanically, fastening the last string on her black as night gown. "Good day, my Lord".

Tyrion watched as the irritated girl slipped from the chambers briskly. He closed his eyes at the sharp slam of the great doors, lowering himself into the plush chair beside the bed.

 _I have truly failed our sweet girl, Eliessia._

—

Eliesse stood over the strangely grey corpse, who oddly did not resemble a happy, proud man she had once knew and loved. Death and stolen the light from this once, great man and left only a barren vessel of flesh that stunk of thistle and lavender.

 _The scent of the dead_.

Her trembling fingers gently grazed the fine fabric of his tunic, as her vision trembled with sorrow. "Lord Arryn…such a ripe death for a man who never turned ill...peculiar, at the least" she muttered under her breath, her slender finger draping once more the dead man's dressings.

"Peculiar, maybe...death comes early to those who grimace too much. The Hand grimaced much toward the end of his days" sleuth words rang from an ever silver tongue.

 _The King Slayer._

"What do I owe the honor" Eliesse demanded, her voice never begging a pardon or question. Jamie shifted silently in gold chainmail. He hadn't seen his beloved niece in over a year since he called for his brother to send her a way. The proud lion of Casterly Rock feared the capital was tainting the true girl with misery, resentment and fury...by the look of her beautiful face that was besieged in anger, he would seem right.

 _Though, his observation had came too late._

The young lioness' soul was as icy as the the lands of the man who held her heart captive, raped and presumably barren.

 _Why didn't he love her?_

"The honor is mine...how does a girl like you continue to blossom so beautifully despite such ugly circumstance?"

"Perhaps it be a fucking curse" she replied harshly, turning to stroke Arryn's dull and cold hair. She bit her lip in sadness.

"A blessing...my sweet Ellie...you are angry I told your father to send you away" Jamie stated, coming to stand beside the tiger.

"I am not surprised. You lack a loyal bone in your body since before my time, dear uncle" Eliesse replied curtly, never looking at the dashing knight. Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chainmail, watching the young woman's tanned fingers trail sorrowful wisp along the Hand's rotting flesh. He smirked silently to himself. She was always so fierce and unapologetic...it turned worse as she grew into a woman.

 _It would be his doing, to some degree. She did spend considerable time with the knight, after all_.

"I suppose you didn't miss me much after all..." Jamie cooed mockingly, lifting a gloved hand to brush a stray curl from the girl's gloomy eyes. She did not protest the touch. She closed her eyes softly in response, relishing a touch she'd grown to love so dearly. "...know girl, you cursed my mind for an entire year. And seeing you now has raised a joy and sadness in my chest I cannot explain. I hope you forgive me someday, my sweet Ellie" Jamie whispered softly, quickly pressing a fleeting kiss to the young woman's cheek. He quickly departed the throne room, a strange chill running up his spine.

Eliesse sucked in another sharp breath, her fingers still askew on Lord Arryn's ever still body. Her eyes squeezed shut once more as she dipped her forehead against his old, chilling one. "Sleep well, Lord Arryn…" She whispered upon deaf ears.

—

"And so, a great man...good father, husband, Lord, and fine servant to the throne has passed on to sit with Gods...May his journey be brisk and deserving of such a man...May we meet again, Lord Arryn!"

" _Aye!"_

A chorus of drunken men beckoned in the great feasting hall of the castle. Robert Baratheon, with tears in his cold eyes, cast his great Stag chalice into the air, wishing his dearest friend, _a father to him_ , a safe and peaceful journey to the other side.

Eliesse sat silently, twirling a lock of her sweet cousin Myrcella's hair. "Ellie, how did Lord Arryn die?" She whispered quietly, grabbing into the lioness' bodice. Eliesse frowned suddenly, kissing the girl's button nose. Myrcella was her favorite of her cousins bared by the King and Queen. Her gentle nature and honey voice pulled at the tendrons of her stoic heart. She was unwaveringly weak for Myrcella...Sweet Tommen, too. His bright green eyes and small hands pulled at her dress when she was in the capital. Yes, it was true, Myrcella and Tommen were attached to the Dornish girl's hip, sometimes begging to find sleep in her chambers alongside her slender figure in the great bed. She never protested their request.

Cersei Lannister was very much aware of her children's adoration of the girl. Though she despised it, she allowed it nonetheless. The prideful Queen only loved her children, not a person more. She could not deny that the way Eliesse watched her brood and loomed over them protectively, gave her peace. She did not fret or worry of their wellness when the tiger was near. She knew they were safe and well looked after, and she could go about her royal duties without a quiver of her mind. It was the defining reason behind her cordial demeanor and platonic attitude with the Dornish girl.

"He got sick...don't worry, my flower. It was a sickness only old men catch. You are safe. And he is at peace with the Gods" Eliesse whispered, stroking the young lioness' rosy cheek. Myrcella nodded meekly, pressing her face into Eliesse's full breast. Eliesse rested a comforting hand on the girl's tuffles of gold locks.

The feasting hall became a bustle of men and banter, drinking and music, laughing and sorrow. Eliesse watched tiredly of the men who whispered her name and daunted her with ravishing eyes and crooked teeth. She cringed internally, turning her attention to her sweet, innocent cousins…

 _...all but one, of course._

"Cousin Ellie, what will happen now since Lord Arryn has died and he was the hand of my father? Who will take his place?" Joffrey Baratheon, eldest of Cersei and the King's brood beckoned, ripping into the back leg of his honey hog. Eliesse watched quietly, dabbing the brazen boy's mouth. He frowned at the gesture. _He hated when Ellie babied him_.

Still, he loved her the same. She always cooed to the boy lovingly. It was deep in her nature, despite his own _evil_ one.

And though she caught the boy strangling stray cats and setting their corpse ablaze throughout her years in the great city, she treated him tenderly.

 _Boys like him_ _ **needed**_ _the extra love, for a lack of it could turn the young lion rabid._

"Perhaps grandfather will take his place" she whispered, eyes turning upwards at the old Lannister's face across the great hall. Lord Tywin had arrived late in the evening, though just in time for the festivities and celebration of Lord Arryn's life.

He chuckled amongst grey haired men, eyeing whores and kitchen wenches the same.

 _His eyes glanced swiftly in the direction of the Lannister girl_.

Eliesse glared back, unapologetically. He did not intimidate the Dornish girl.

 _Much to his dismay, it would seem._

Eliesse rose quietly from her seat amongst her small cousins at the head table. "If you'll excuse me, my sweet cousins...the day's events have proved to be emotionally trying...I need to rest" she spoke softly, running her fingers swiftly through both young Tommen and Myrcella's golden locks. They frowned in dismay. _They wanted the girl to stay with them._

"I want to sleep in your chambers tonight! Can I come?" Tommen whined, grabbing as usual at the maiden's dress. Eliesse smiled small, empathetic to his looming need of a motherly touch. Myrcella nodded in agreement with her young brother, beckoning Eliesse to let them accompany her.

"That is enough, my little doves. Eliesse is sure to be in need of privacy...I'm sure the girl would want to mourn her dear _friend_ in peace. Leave her be. Tomorrow is a new day. You may wake her with breakfast in bed...I'm sure she'd appreciate such pleasantries after having to finding sleep amongst such ill thoughts, the night before" Cersei Lannister suddenly spoke, appearing behind the Dornish woman. She tilted her head to the side, her curious, unwavering stare blanketing the young woman in polite animosity. She placed a slender hand upon her two cubs crowns, turning to eye them adoringly.

"Your grace" Eliesse spoke solemnly. "It is no trouble if they would like to join me...I hear my pillows _are_ the softest in the castle" She curtly replied, winking at the two children. They chuckled in delight, nodding in agreement of the Dorne woman. She glanced back pressingly at the lioness of Casterly Rock. She was much aware of the Queen's distaste of her, but knew there was a part within the scorned woman that appreciated her gentle nature towards her brood.

"Funny. As soft as they are and _only_ my children call to rest their head there. Pitty. Perhaps you need better pillows to attract more than just tired children" She pursed her lips venomously, head still tilt in loath and mockery. "Sweet dreams, dear niece". The Queen turned swiftly, ushering her two smallest cubs to the seats closest to her and by their boasting, drunken father. She never once turning to regard the suddenly sore Dornish woman.

Eliesse turned quickly, dashing from the feasting hall before anyone could see the glitter of sorrow that pooled in her hardened eyes.

Perhaps the Queen was right. Who would want the girl? A Dornish Lannister...Two separate entities that elicited rage in some and mockery in others. _A Westerosi joke._ Worse than _the dwarf of Casterly Rock._

The young woman thrust open the chamber's doors, running as quick as her legs would take her back to her own room. She remained there, weeping and thinking of a boy... _now likely a man,_ who regarded her just as insignificant as the rest of her royal _family_.

It was in that moment that Eliesse decided she _hated_ Jon Snow. She hated him with every fiber of her tender being. While the night waved slow, eventually, sleep overtook the distressed girl, lulling her into visions of crashing waves and sweltering suns…

... _and somehow, the howling of a northern wolf._

—

Tywin Lannister swirled his golden chalice about a still courtyard. Much of the high lords and lady's had turned in for the bashful night. Tears and laughs filled his cunning mind...for many folk weeped at the loss of the Hand of the King.

He stood at the balcony of the Red Keep's garden that overlooked the _shit-hole_ capital of Westeros. Distant inkling of jesters and music filled his old ears as he pondered at the still night. He sipped his drink skeptically... _summerwine_ , the ale of whores and tired men.

He tossed the liquor hastily from his proud glass.

"Not a fan of the Dornish berry, I take ye" a rumbling, slurred voice called to the old lion. Tywin turned curtly, brow proud and high…dismissive to say the least.

"Ah, King Robert...an honor"

"To whom? Not ye I would assume...why do you stalk my halls so, My Lord?" Robert Baratheon, red faced and drunk on whores and ale pressed, leaning against a small balcony for support. He eyed the old lion of Casterly Rock closely.

 _He never liked the Lannister._

Well, truly, he never liked _any_ Lannister for that matter.

 _Cowardly lions_ he'd beckon during his rebellion. He was a drunk...and a lush...but not a fool. When it was prominent that the great stag would win his war, that is when the Lannisters joined his alliance.

He would not disregard that their sacking of King's Landing assisted in solidifying his claim to the iron throne...his crushing of Rhaegar's chest and Ser Gregor Clegane's crushing of Elia Martell's children's skulls helped confirm and _assure_ his succession to the highly regarded seat. He would be indebted nonetheless to their part in his rebellion.

But it would not _disway_ his lack of taste for the Lannisters. Forced into marriage with that wretched bitch, Cersei...a courtesy for her father. Robert snorted suddenly at the drunken thought. Though he despised every Lannister, _yellow haired_ , proud and all, he tipped his hat to their assistance in securing his claim to the iron throne. And his children of course…he loved them all, true. Even the sadistic, defiant Joffrey.

"You speak as though I am not welcome" Tywin chuckled darkly, watching the black waters of the bay churn in disgruntled winds. "Am I not the Queen's father?"

"You are. And you would be wise to keep that position strictly. Do not venture outside those boundaries, My Lord" Robert suddenly boomed. "I am not a fool. You were disapproving of my appointing of Lord Jon Arryn as Hand, many years ago...perhaps you believed the position to be yours after the sacking. A reward of goodwill" Robert eyed the man peculiarly. Though he was drunk and his noble sack emptied by the castles whores, he was not a daft fool. Tywin Lannister scarcely graced the capital with his withered, thin skin. A purpose was prominent, true. Why else would the great Lion of Casterly Rock bid his presence to the capital in subject of a man he thought an old fool.

"I am here to propose"

"Aye...get on with it then" Robert replied, suddenly tired with the old Lord.

"The throne is secured by a Lannister and Baratheon in the south...my granddaughter Eliesse is heiress to Dorne...a reign coming as _Queen_ of the great, sun stroked lands. She is one of the last, trueborn grandchildren of Dorne...though their patronage is _obscured_ , it is promised that Eliesse be in running for succession alongside that boy _Trystane_ for heir of Dorne. For her mother Eliessia was of the last children born alongside Oberyn, Doran, Elia and _bastard_ others. And most of Eliessia's siblings hold no _true born heir,_ except for Oberyn and Doran _._ She holds the highest claim after with Tyrion as her father. Oberyn bares bastard daughters and Doran a son… but she is _no bastard_ …and a _far_ greater warrior then soft Trystane, if duel be the deciding factor of who will succeed to heir of Sunspear"

"What does that have to do with me?" King Robert mused, eyeing the man strangely. Tywin smirked, his face turned inward at the buffoonish stag.

"Eliesse was brought to these lands for one purpose and one purpose only... _to be groomed for duty._ The Lannisters are loyal to you, my King...you have secured a Lannister in the south...if you secure one in the north...she will give direct claim to you for the Dornish lands...lands you've had turbulence in maintaining since Elia and Eliessia's murder...if the people of Dorne witness their _dear_ princess in allegiance with the throne...they will bow and _forget_ troublesome pasts. She _will_ convince them to bend the knee. _All_ of Westeros will bend" Tywin mused, eyeing the King mischievously. Robert stared bewildered at the old lion, but attentive nonetheless. It was true. Since the _murder_ of the two women, Dorne was a tense territory. Perhaps the old lion was becoming of something…

"What of Tyrion? It _is_ his daughter. Perhaps a meeting should ensure…"

"Tyrion will have no say. He is heir to no lands, a voice to no ears...Lannister's have endorsed the throne for centuries...our loyalty has always been repaid…" Tywin eyed the King knowingly. Robert inhaled sharply, his chest rising in inflated honor not due to the drunken fool. "A loyal friend is a good friend...you have your claim in the south...Eliesse is your claim to the north. She has been groomed of honor and duty her entire life. She will not disappoint" Tywin spoke, his eyes sharp and scowl proud. He watched as Robert nodded slowly, fingers rubbing against one another in mystery and intent.

"Perhaps…" The King muttered, eyeing the Westeros capital from high balconies. He pondered the cun in the lion's words, considering for a moment his proposition. _It was a grand idea_ , to say the least. These Lannister's were a hungry pride...lusting for positions of power, seeking _hierarchy_ and trueborn claim. "And what of _Ned…_ last we spoke one of his sons was betrothed to a daughter of Walder Frey's…Robb, I believe. Eliesse is much older than his next son Bran...and Rickon is merely a child as well... _of course, there is always that_ _ **bastard**_ _boy..._ perhaps a legitimizing would serve well, in our favor" Robert boomed in laughter.

"A minor inconvenience that can be rectified by royal order. _Whatever choice, it be._ Perhaps, if you make Eddard a proposal he cannot refuse...he may oblige to other inquiries" Tywin pressed on, coming to stand before Robert.

Still, the drunk Stag pondered on. He didn't like the idea of a Lannister succeeding the north…

 _...but Ned was his brother, and his brood no doubt as honorable as he...perhaps the alliance would better serve his cause…_

"We will ride north in a day. I will send a raven to my Warden to inform him of the grave news of our beloved Hand...and to let him know the Royal guard rides for his gates... _and I will bid his ear to talks of marriage..._ though I'm sure Ned will oppose on the premise of honor to House Frey...but we can talk of other options if that one fairs too difficult...nonetheless, my dear friend will hear me soon. Thank you for your council, Lord Tywin...it will not be forgotten" Robert raised his chapped glass at the proud and bemused lion. Tywin nodded in response, watching as the fat King waddled back into the keep.

He smirked to himself and turned once more towards the garden's balcony, glaring knowingly at the shithole capital.

 _His plan was surely set in motion._

—

Eliesse woke to streaks of sunshine prodding her olive face. She sat up slowly in her great, silken bed, shielding her eyes from defiant rays. "Finally, you wake" a voice suddenly intruded.

Eliesse turned sharply, startled by a voice she had not welcomed to her chambers. She hugged her pelts automatically to her curvaceous frame.

 _Her father._

"Lord Tyrion" she acknowledged, staring bewildered at the short man. "To what honor?"

"No honor, sweet girl. I've come to speak to you on matters made in the still of night...you sleep long, my daughter. I was afraid you wouldn't wake" Tyrion slid off the seat at the young woman's bedside. "Is it too early for wine, my sweet?"

"Never" Eliesse replied, shrugging her pelts and retrieving her bedside glass. Tyrion smiled with affection, pouring a tender glass of summerwine. "What ales you?" the Dorne girl replied quietly, sipping her wine.

"No ales, my girl...just news that beckoned my ear in the early morn...The King had decided in the still of last night's celebrations to ride north to Lord Eddard Stark tomorrow morn...he is taking the entire royal escort…and called for us _lesser Lannisters_ to follow. He wishes to propose the Warden with _Hand of the King_ "

Eliesse's heart surged in agony, rage and unrequited sorrow. It filled her in such fury, and chased her breath away. Her grip on the fine gold chalice strengthened as her mind screamed one thing and one thing only…

 _..._ _ **Jon Snow**_.

"Oh" she managed to choke out, downing the last of her chalice. Tyrion watched curiously, though refilling the newly wet woman's glass. His proud daughter was never silenced... _rarely_ caught off guard. _What_ _ **ales**_ _the proud lioness? "_ The north is wonderful. A truly, exquisite land. You will enjoy it, so" She suddenly spoke, sipping her new glass.

"...yes, of course. I've never been north...this will truly succeed a boyish desire in me. But...my Eliesse, I'm here to inform you that _**you too**_ , shall be apart of the Royal Guard...by the _King's_ request" Tyrion eyed his daughter peculiarly, watching her face drain of all sunshine and heat. Eliesse sipped her wine with suddenly trembling fingers grasping at the fine gold.

 _No..._ _ **please**_ _!_ Her mind screamed.

"Wonderful. I await the trek" She answered mechanically. She threw back the last of her wine, placing down the gold chalice in swift might. "Is that all?" Eliesse muttered, an undetected tremble in her usually proud voiced. Tyrion finished his glass, nodding slowly.

 _He sensed her anxiety_ , though commented nothing on its prominence. "Of course. I will see you in the morn on steed for the north" he spoke quickly, walking to her chamber doors.

Eliesse nodded, rising from her bed. "Yes" she whispered, though her breath barely kissed her suddenly inflamed lungs. "See you in the morn".

Tyrion exited the girl's chambers swiftly. Though he knew something defiant clawed at the girl, he couldn't bring himself to ask of it.

Eliesse stared in silence at the great doors as her father left. For a moment, her heart beat slow…and then she imagined _him…_

... _in all his glory..._ _ **unwanting of her**_ _._

She clutched her bodice in a sudden flurry of anxiety, sorrow ravaging her scarred frame and tender heart.

 _All the letters...all the_ _ **unanswered**_ _letters._

She dropped to her knees, fingers grasping at her throat which suddenly closed in sorrow. It became inflamed in misery...a tinge of resentment lapping at its crevices.

 _Jon_...her loins **screamed** for a boy, now a **man** who didn't want the girl.

 _How could she face him?_

She cried softly into her hands as she felt her soul engulf in sorrow and anger.

—

For a month, the King's Guard trudged on through cold lands. A vast, long summer seemed eons away as a strange chill bit through the woman's cloaks.

A young Dornish girl was now a woman. She gripped cold leather reins between angry, tanned fingers.

 _These lands were unforgiving and_ _ **relentless**_ , she thought.

Still, she prodded on, misery nearly swallowing the once bright girl. Her plump lips tasted frost and sheer coldness...her soul danced with despair and desperation all at once, exciting and saddening the girl.

 _She refused the offer of the royal carriage. She was_ _ **not**_ _a pansey-folk._ And though her father called to her many times, she did not sway.

On her steed, Snow, the proud lion trotted on...some days entertaining the banter of the fat King…

...most days, riding in solitude, unwanting of conversation and fake kindness. She never wavered from the front of the convoy...she'd be damned before appearing soft and unfocused.

But soon, _the long trek ended._

She sat on steed, lips cracked from an unforgiving northern chill...a chill that trembled in beg to her heart, but cried in unanswered feat. She stared at the familiar, great northern gates.

A familiar sound of horn broke the icy day…

" _Open the gates! The king arrives!"_ was all the Dornish woman heard as her heart bled in agony and anticipation. She tilted her head up, meeting the glare of grey, icy skies. No sun was prevalent in these lands. A single snowflake fluttered from the clouds and fell upon the girl's nose, melting against her warmth.

 _Winter was here._


	7. Chapter 7

Lord and Lady Stark stood solemnly among their noble brood and castlemen as pools of gold and silver flowed proudly through Winterfell's gates. The last time the Royal Escort had graced their honorable walls, the Lord and his wife had been eager and in high spirits. _Lord Arryn was ever family,_ and while Ned still shared the same eagerness for a brother long lost, his wife was solemn and wary. The joyous occasion quietly drew grief behind it and unspoken prophecy...

 _An image of a direwolf with an angler broke in its throat besieged the woman's paranoid mind._

Catelyn Stark quietly squeezed her husband's hand, attempting to calm her suddenly rapid nerves as the clinking of chainmail and ringing of steel vibrated throughout the cold courtyard. Her eyes fluttered briefly to her adoring children, all tuffles and locks of Tully red...all but sweet, Arya. Bless her wolf soul, she was all Stark, dark haired and brooding.

The Guard opened up, laying way to a giant man in size and girth whom she'd known to be Robert Baratheon. Her breath held at the revealing sight...it would seem the King had allowed merriment and _indulgence_ to take hold of his senses. Yes, it was true, the once lean, giant stag had grown wider and red-faced. His beard that was once as black as ink had become worn with silver and grey; a testament to the time that had passed between the two long-lost brothers. The smell of wine and perfume hung to the fat man like it would a fine, capital whore…

Catelyn was engulfed in her ramped mind, the sounds of her husband and the King's voice rekindling deep fondness had become a whisper in a suddenly deafening wind. Her eyes fell across the still courtyard that had become lively once more with excitement and proud anticipation of the Royal's visit. The Queen, her brothers...handsome, _King Slaying_ Jaime Lannister and his warped, imp brother, Tyrion...still, she heard little of the laughs and banter. Her mind was consumed, and she a prisoner, sentenced to pace the tendrons of its holdings. That was until she heard the King regarding her children.

 _Her sweet, sweet babes._ Innocent and rosy cheeked, all.

Her head flashed upwards as she watched Robert greet and approve her children. He glanced up quietly at someone, a quick, affirming smile that appeared as swiftly as it vanished. Kind but unlingering. Her eyes followed the King's own to the person he regarded so slickly...she suddenly clenched her tight, leathered fist.

 _Snow._

Jon, finally a man and ever resembling the scorned woman's husband more and more each day, shyly looked down. Her nostrils flared in resentment to a boy whom she was _sure_ the King was watching in adoration...for the boy's face likely ignited fond memories of brotherhood with a man who had aged just as much as he, but looked so much of the bastard son at his age. _Aye, the apple was close to its tree._

And Lady Stark truly despised the deviled fruit it bore.

But there was something else... _a taste_ of something else in that boy that lay mysterious to the woman. It was likely the bastard's **mother** …

... _She wondered if Ned would see it too and reminisce to a fierce love worth more than his vows to the young Tully girl._

A thunderous gallop startled the brooding woman.

Catelyn Stark snapped her eyes from the bastard boy and to the trembling earth before her. A hooded figure boasting heavy tanned furs came to an aggressive halt before the King and his good friend. They jumped from the white steed, tugging its reins sharply in dominance. "There now, girl" a feminine voice whispered. The pelt's hood was tossed back swiftly revealing familiar curls of golden brown that framed angelic features on top olive flesh.

 _She gasped._

"You truly _do_ have the sweetest wild grass, it seems...My Lord and Lady...it has been too long" Eliesse Lannister spoke eloquently, her southern drawl never losing its luster it would seem these past five years.

Eddard Stark's smile grew at once, as he took the now _woman's_ hand and kissed it honorably. "Your fire still burns fierce, my lady...a girl you are no more. My heart is full at this surprise of your presence".

Robert Baratheon rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his chapped lips. "The Tiger _would_ make sure to best the _King's_ entrance...I thought it would be kind to reunite the beauty and her childhood friends...a day of reuniting and celebration in the north! Take me down to your crypt Ned, I wish to pay my respects" Robert grabbed his dear friend by the shoulder walking towards the castle.

"We have been riding a _month_ , my King...I'm sure the dead can wait...our children are tired, _hungry_ …" Cersei Lannister suddenly interjected, her brow bewitched in disdain since the Guard has departed the capital. Each day on the journey north it seemed like the proud lioness' face became more wretched and twist in irritation. It was prevalent she did not wish to be in Winterfell.

Robert shot her a defiant look, his face screwed in misery and contempt that he could only hold for the yellow-haired woman. She did not need to be regarded twice. Jaime came between the two silently dueling man and wife. He touched his resentful sister's arm, leading her back towards the wheelhouse that she had travelled in with her royal children...not another word was spoken.

"This way, Your Grace" Ned quietly spoke, leading the brazen stag through the courtyard. The Guard began separating, making their ways through the castle and to the stables.

Catelyn Stark stood quietly, her once rigid and trembling figure suddenly stoic and unmoving.

 _Eliesse._

Her eyes snapped forward once more to the young woman. "You look like you've seen a ghost, My Lady" Eliesse cocked a proud brow at the suddenly pale Stark woman. Catelyn was silent, cursing herself for being unable to speak before the Dornish woman. Shock had overtook the usually friendly and chattering Lady…

...She wasn't expecting her…

... _Not yet, at least._

"Eliesse, the Gods favor you. How does a fine girl blossom into such a exquisite flower? Your beauty knows no end" She embraced the woman quickly, her step coming in swift and filled with haste. She was seeping of a strangeness that the young lady could taste. However so, Eliesse spoke nothing of it.

Eliesse glanced over her shoulder to the proud brood she'd grown to love in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Though her pain had kept their faces at bay in mind, she could still remember the sounds of their voices, laughter and bashment. She let go of the odd Stark woman, walking slowly to her children. They stood, all smiling, all hair ablaze except for sweet Arya…

... _and him._

Her heart clenched suddenly, a feel of lion's claws, viper fangs and wolf bite, ripping and holding the woman's scarred tissue in place. It would not beat, it would not tremble…

... _it would not yearn._

And he stared back too, eyes screaming many things she couldn't comprehend from where she stood silently. She thought perhaps she'd seen wonder, disbelief…

... _sorrow._

"Ellie" his was voice soft and barely over a whisper.

But still, she heard the boy. Her breath escaped her lips in a fury. Her eyes widening in acknowledgment as though he had called her by that name her entire life...her mouth opened for a word she begged forward but it remained behind still lips. She pressed them closed, suddenly blinking away the dew of sadness in her golden eyes.

 _Gold that had been hard and cold was suddenly alive and flowing hot and true._

Catelyn Stark's glare snapped relentlessly to the boy, her eyes widening in a familiar rage. He stared at the Dornish girl like he had many years ago, _unblinking, unmoving…_

 _...a boy tortured by her mere presence._

She stormed over to the bastard, her figure sharp and sweltering. She was before him in an instant, eyes blazing siege into his own and blocking his sight of Eliesse any further. " _You will_ _ **not**_ _speak to her._ How _dare_ you regard her by a child's name and _not_ as your high lady? Are you daft, boy? You would be wise to find yourself in the stables at once!" She spat venomously, her eyes glazed over in a rage Jon had never seen or felt by her tongue before.

He flinched away from Lady Stark's icy tone, swiftly heading in the direction of the stables. He did not have to be told twice. With such an occasion as the Royal Guard in Winterfell, he knew it'd be best to steer clear of the High-Folk…

He did not wish to bring any more dishonor to his father than his meek existence already had.

Staying clear of the Royal Party meant _everyone._

 _Yes, her too..._

But what would the lioness care anyway?

" _A lady doesn't answer the call of a bastard"_

The words ran red and hot like scorned blood through the young man's mind. He felt his heart clench in sorrow with familiar heat that he thought he'd done well to chase away.

 _But it was there. Likely, it never left the young wolf._

And seeing the Dorne girl ignited its angry, resentful flame that he worked hard to do away with many years before. For a moment, it trembled to him, in need and searching for girl who'd created it...but he squashed the whim under his boot, it's flame diminishing and leaving only remnants of grey smoke.

 _Just as quick it'd come, it left again...lost in an unforgiving cold wind that basked in solitude._

Eliesse watched painfully as the boy darted from the yard, a sparing glance was never paid to her by the boy, despite the debt it took. She bit her lip angrily, hatred filling her up and nearly swallowing her whole. The familiar sting of abandonment lay poison to her prideful veins as she turned to the remaining Stark children.

Four of the five wolves of Winterfell looked down, ashamed and sad for a brother they've loved as their own, true or not. Sansa was the only Stark who's eyes remained unphased by her mother's cruel words. Jon _was_ a bastard. And it was true—he should be referring to her as a _lady_ , not silly _Ellie_. He would have to learn to mind his tongue when in the presence of noble men and woman. "Lady Eliesse! I am so happy you are here! We've missed you so!" Sansa chirped happily, consuming the Tigeress. Eliesse smiled warmly at the young, dazed girl. She was _unaware_ of the words that had transpired on her behalf by Lady Catelyn to the bastard Jon Snow.

"As I have for you all," Eliesse smiled, eyeing each Stark child adoringly. "Look at you, sweet Sansa...what a maiden you've grown into...Rickon, sweet boy...My Bran, you are sprouting too tall...Arya, the wildness has grown in your eyes my feral wolf…

... _Robb Stark._ Prince to Winterfell...you've gotten taller...and filled out quite nice into a man's shape" Eliesse couldn't deny the newly bloomed _woman_ inside her that was much aware of the young wolf's handsomeness.

Where the young girl had always noticed boys from a young age due to her upbringing in traditional Dorne culture, _Jon_ had awoken the true _viperess_ in her some years ago in a quiet hot spring. She had become tempting, alluring... _seductive._

Though she had been courted relentlessly since her fifteenth name day, it was _Lord_ _Tywin_ and _not_ her father who had always disproved all suitors. It would seem her betrothal would be _his_ deciding, when and _if..._ regardless if the young woman wanted _not._

" _A highborn lady requires a highborn man...no more whispers of these_ _ **common**_ _noblemen, merchants and thieves…or rich bastards...no, I will hear no more from these ravens of mediocrities...especially not of the ones flying in from_ _ **Dorne**_ " _Eliesse recalled her grandfather speaking in his council chambers to her own father and a few Maesters. She was young, and impulsive...and ever nosey...she listened quietly at the windowsill observing the murderous lion's complaints as he called her father and other councilmen to his chambers to discuss her soon coming of age. He rose solemnly from his seat, walking to the same windowsill Eliesse listened from._

 _Though she did not move nor avoid his glare. She found it her right to listen on to words whispered alongside her name. And though it was true, she was almost a woman fully grown and aware of a man's gaze, she prided herself in waiting to know their touch. Even in her ten and fifth year, she held out hope that a letter would still come from frostbitten lands...from a man who's touch was the only one she ever wanted to know._

 _Lord Tywin's gaze turned briskly to the girl, eyes scrutinizing her bare presence. She did not quiver._

 _He grimaced suddenly, walking to the meek windowsill and thrusting its tapestries open. He pushed the girl from the sharp ledge unapologetically. "Wretched seagulls, they besiege the castle windows with the rot of fish and shit. Call for a squire at once." He turned back to the council, retrieving his golden chalice from his desk side and joining them once more at the great table._

 _Eliesse soared high into the sky, wings beating profusely to the ocean's gentle breeze..._

 _...And somewhere in the great castle of Casterly Rock slumbered a still woman with eyes open and hauntingly white._

"And you a woman, truly...you are radiant, my lady" Robb spoke gently. He took the lioness' hand in his own, softly grazing his calloused thumb over the back of her hand before laying a respectful kiss upon it. He looked up into her eyes, his icy blue orbs holding her hostage in an unfamiliar moment that was never once shared between the two.

Robb had always been her friend. _Pleasant and honorable_ towards her in her time spent in Winterfell. And while she was much aware of the young lad's smitteness in her, she never could find it in her wild heart to pay him much mind.

 _Not with Jon around, at least._

But Jon was gone. The boy she'd shared tender and secret moments with in the forbidden corners of the winter castle, was no longer here. It was as though his warm memory had evaporated into the northern chill, lost over an isle of vast wilderness beyond these cold walls.

And after all that, here was Robb…

 _The Prince of Winterfell._

She cursed the growing this boy, _now a man_ had done in the last five years.

Eliesse blushed, her plump lips curving into a slender smile. _He must've learned of a woman's touch in these past years._ How else could she attest Robb's sudden knowledge of courting and wooing? He was quite good...she wondered hastily for a moment what _else_ he was good at.

"Thank you, my lord" She slowly retracted her hand from the brazen boy who had suddenly turned rosy cheeked. "It has been some time" she glanced around her at the usual, yet strangely different courtyard she'd spent endless time in with this boy and his brothers. It elicited fond memories in her...and sad ones too for a heart she'd lost.

"Too long, Ellie…how has the south treated you these years?"

"Fair. Though I've missed my home...I have been able to keep busy. We have much catching up to do. If you will excuse me, I need to bring my horse Sn— Eliesse halted her words suddenly, tasting the familiar salt and iron on her tongue that _the name_ brought her. And though she loathed the boy, she did not want to give way to their secret affair many years ago…

 _...She knew_ _ **he'd**_ _be punished swiftly and hard._

"Snake. My horse Snake...I must bring her to the stables" Eliesse smiled quickly, winking at the northern boy. He chuckled sincerely at the revelation of her horse's name. _How peculiar this Dornish girl was._

He thirsted to know more of her.

"Snake...you were not kidding when you said you missed home...allow me to escort you, my lady" He reached his arm out for Eliesse. She smiled small, shaking her head in discouragement. She needed a moment of quiet to herself...her nerves were in a horrid bundle.

"I am good, truly. I will catch up with you soon" She bid the man a quick farewell, not allowing him to protest. Robb smiled small, his eyes lingering on the young lady's newly curvaceous physique as she sauntered away to the castle's stables. He turned away reluctantly as she entered the barn.

Eliesse shook her head profusely trying to steady her screaming mind. _Jon, Robb, Winterfell...Strange Lady Stark..._ She was suddenly overwhelmed by it all. She wished she'd done more to protest her accompaniment on this journey north...but King Robert would hear nothing of her woes.

" _A Baratheon and Lannister sit on the throne...so it will be Baratheons and Lannisters that travel north, girl…"_

Eliesse gently pulled Snow forward to a stall, tying the shiny leather reins on a nearby post. She stroked her side adoringly, listening to the soft neigh the great beast beckoned in response. She wished for a moment she could simply remain here. She wished to never leave this stall, and take refuge for the next days or weeks that would follow with her being in strange Winterfell. She didn't care that the damn shack stunk of dirty hounds and horse fowl...it was more inviting than _anything_ that lay beyond its wall.

The horse gave a sudden snort, blowing its silken mane about the Dorne girl. Eliesse chuckled quietly, rubbing her nose. "Was that because I called you _Snake_ and not _Snow?"_ The horse snorted loudly once more, becoming suddenly agitated. She sensed something. "What is it, girl?" Eliesse whispered gently, grabbing her reins once more.

 _The Gods were truly cruel._

Eliesse froze in anticipation as the boy she loved and hated walked into the stall, eyes down and concentrating on the haystack he'd been carrying. He stopped abruptly as his eyes registered on two boots before him. He glanced up, meeting his once lovers gold stare.

The star-crossed pair did not speak, nor did they draw any breathe.

He suddenly dropped the haystack, his mouth opening in angst, though no word would come forth once more. Jon stared into Eliesse's eyes, attempting to muster some strength _or intelligence_ that would grant him a sound from his suddenly dry lips. His eyes frantically chased her own, falling up and down the olive flesh of her painfully beautiful face.

Eliesse stared at Jon in anticipation and _misery_. A thousand moons could've passed and still, it wouldn't be enough time for the young woman to muster up the courage to speak. She watched his eyes, his nose, his dark hair that was nearly black... _he had grown it_...soft, defiant curls clung around his smooth face.

 _His face…_

…Once a face round in youth had suddenly grown hard and chiseled at the jaw. He was a boy no more...Eliesse cursed herself for the observation. She cursed herself more when she noticed a small dark shadow of manly hair that was beginning to grow in dark stubble around his face and jaw.

The soft stubble managed to _turn her on_ , despite her disdain for the northern boy. _A thousand curses._

Jon was noticeably taller, larger...thick with defined muscles and broad shoulders under his dark leathers but yet slender in the body. His hands had grown to, they were visibly rough, calloused from training and other manly duties, surely.

 _Just the way she'd loved a man's hands to be._

And Jon watched her too, in all her sudden womanly glory. No, she was not a _young girl_ any more. She was a woman, true. Her lips were more full, more bitten red than before, her eyes were somehow lighter yet still dripping gold ablaze...her hair...the once short curls that dangled just above her shoulders in wild tresses had grown out and fell in golden ringlets, cascading down her slender back, just above her waist. It was as free as her...no longer tied with a _pretty red ribbon._

 _The ribbon._

Jon subconsciously touched his chest pad on his leather tunic.

 _His only piece of the girl._

"Eliesse...I—

But Jon could not lay loose the struggled word quick enough from his chapped lips before they were suddenly stinging from a quick and calculated thrust of a fist.

In an instant, Jon was thrown back and stumbling against the cold and hard stall walls. He slammed into it with ferocity, stunned. His hand automatically went to his mouth that was searing with sharp pain. He glanced down at his hard fingers that were wet with fresh blood. The taste of rust and salt filled his mouth, spilling in angry rivers down his sore chin. His eyes sprang forward at the girl who'd nearly broke the boy's jaw.

 _His heart ached._

Eliesse stood before him, eyes wild in pain and animosity...like a wounded animal, clinging to a life it would surely lose. It took him a moment to focus on the streaks of moisture on her cheeks.

 _It took him longer to realize they were the girl's tears._

His eyes fell to her heaving chest that was engulfed in fine furs. It would seem the girl had remembered how cold the north was, and how her old Dornish cloak, thin and sultry, was no match for its icy bite.

 _She'd learned her lesson_ , he supposed.

About the _weather_ …

 _...the men…_

His stormy glare fell to her hand which had bruised red and purple in an instant...the soft flesh of her skin was broken, as silent streams of ruby liquid trickled defiantly down her elegant fingers.

His eyes widened in recognition. _She was hurt._ "Ellie, please, your hand," He suddenly said, his steady voice finally finding him. He sputtered blood on her furs as he spoke, causing her to flinch. Eliesse glanced down at the small speckles quietly, losing herself for a moment. "Ellie…" Jon's trembling, cold fingers brushed her injured hand. She flinched, though not for the touch or sting it brought with it.

 _She flinched because it was_ _ **him**_ _._ So long, she'd fantasized and relived the young wolf's touch...over and over again...his hands on her trembling body, on her face, his lips on hers, against her breast, his hand slipping between her legs...

Eliesse's golden glare sprung back to the boy she'd hit in anger and despair. She pushed him away, anger swallowing the girl under the surface of a dark sea that churned in her mind. "Don't you _ever_ touch me or speak to me, _Lord Snow._ I _wish_ I'd never met you...I curse the day we met and all that happened after...I _hate_ you". With tears in her eyes and blood in her mouth, she ran from the quiet, unforgiving stable. She ran as fast as she could to the castle, and back up the ominously winding stairs of the tower she'd stayed in before.

Eliesse burst suddenly through her lent chamber doors, heaving hollow breaths around her instantly flushed face. Thara hurried from the bed that she had been folding the lioness' clothes upon. "My flower, why are you running? What is the hurry? _Eliesse!_ Your hand! You're crying! What ales you girl?" Thara grabbed the young woman, shaking her gently. Eliesse's eyes had been shut solemnly and she fought to keep resentful tears at bay. She pressed her lips together, for fear that there separation would allow the spilling of tears and anguish. "Ellie...my flower...was it Jon? Did you see Jon?"

Eliesse's eyes flew open, the dam no longer sturdy to hold the flowing rivers of her sadness and heartache. Her lip trembled as she choked out a painful sob, falling to her knees before her trusted handmaiden. Thara fell with the young lioness in arm...and though she had grown so _proud_ and firm, she resembled in that moment the babe she'd met in silk wrappings many years before…

—

Jon sat silently at the squires table, the sound of jests, banter, music and drunken men filling his ears. Proud men and lowly swine clinked glasses and cheered to common joy...wine and whores would flow endlessly while the King loomed.

Summerwine soaked his mouth as he drank abundantly under no supervision. Perhaps, that was one of the perks of being _the bastard_...when noblemen and women were among the Starks, he got to sit at the guards table or squire's…

... _and drink..._ for a bastard had no place among highborn children.

The Royal procession had already begun filling into the great hall. His father and the Queen, King Robert and Lady Catelyn...Prince Joffrey lead Sansa, _who was red faced in affection and girlish charm_...Bran led Princess Myrcella Baratheon...Arya held the hands of tiny Rickon and Prince Tommen Baratheon…

... _And Robb lead_ _ **her.**_

 _His Eliesse...at least, she use to be._

Jon watched in painful awe as the Dornish girl smiled and chuckled with his handsome brother who bore proud grey furs and the sigil of a direwolf. Eliesse's hair was full of luster and sheen and flowed effortlessly down her slender, curvaceous back...all of which was deliciously bare in a traditionally sheer, Dorne dress.

 _Red was always her color._

Jon hated how beautiful she looked...he hated the way _Robb_ admired how _beautiful_ she looked. Jon watched as his brother escorted Eliesse to her seat and took his own at her side. He could see their lips moving but no sound could be made out from his own place in the feasting hall. The sound of music and laughter drowned out their voice, while the wine clouded his vision. Eliesse smiled at something Robb said, lifting her hand to graze his cheek. He smiled in response.

Jon grabbed a flagon of spiced wine from a serving girl's tray and began to refill his cup. He quickly threw back the sweet grape, feeling it's familiar sharp burn pierce his suddenly parched throat. His head swooned at the belligerent liquor.

Jon glanced up once more from his bitter glass, bruised in ego but relentless in watching _his_ sweet Eliesse. Robb had asked the girl to dance. Jon felt his heart ache at the sight as Eliesse laughed and danced with the ever growing drunk Robb.

"Is this one of the direwolves I've heard much of?" Jon glanced up from his jealous glare of the two dancing friends, meeting the dark gaze and black leathers of his uncle Benjen Stark.

He shot the tormenting girl another fleeting glance, and then turned completely to the Nights Watchman. "Uncle" he smiled as best as his aching heart would allow...

Across the feasting hall, Robb Stark and Eliesse Lannister were closely in arm, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Father and mother say that Sansa is to be betrothed to Prince Joffrey...poor girl" Robb smirked, eyeing the Lannister girl playfully. He had heard of _Lannister pride..._ and he wondered if the Dornish girl had learnt it during her time spent in the south. Afterall, the Crown Prince, _was_ her little cousin.

Eliesse bit her lip, trapping an amused smile between her teeth. "Tread lightly, wolf" she whispered in Robb's ear. He laughed in response to the girl's slightly jabbed ego. He ran his hand up her arm, grasping her hand as they swayed innocently to the music in the hall.

Eliesse flinched in pain. Her hand was still sore from her encounter with _him_.

"What happened to your hand?" Robb questioned, his brows furrowing in concern. Eliesse withdrew her hand suddenly, unwilling to disclose her encounter with the boy's brother.

 _And how unanswered love had driven the girl mad enough to harm the poor bastard._

"I fell off my steed"

"Horse shit" Robb laughed. I've watched you out ride Theon, Jon and myself…so I'll ask again, what happened girl?" He pressed on, cocking a brow at the lioness. Eliesse blushed and turned away from his curious, blue glare. "Very well. I can see whatever happened, you aren't privy to speak of. No matter. You should know, I too had... _odd_ encounters today" Robb muttered, looking away from the suddenly curious woman's eyes.

"Oh?" Eliesse pressed, eyeing the young wolf playfully.

"Aye...my mother and father...they graced my ears with talks of marriage of my own…" Robb muttered, glancing behind the Dorne woman to his ever watchful mother who had spared him an adoring glance. She went back to her banter with the King and her husband.

"Not you too!" Eliesse mocked, her eyes full of mocking sadness. Robb chuckled quietly, his eyes sparking in the low light of the feasting chambers. He clutched the girl closer, tilting his head to the side playfully. He eyed her wantingly…

"Don't fret too much, sweet Ellie of Dorne...but I _am_ betrothed to a daughter of Lord Walder Frey's…" He cooed softly, earning a soft smile from the girl. She smirked, rolling her gold eyes in a way that left the young wolf bashful.

"I suppose I'm too late" She whispered in the boy's ear alluringly. Robb stiffened at the sound, a delicious chill running up his spine. He leaned back to gaze deeply into Eliesse's eyes. Curse this _woman_ who was full of lustful words and sexual banter...he never quite knew when she was taunting him, challenging his manhood or being sincere... _Perhaps that was the way of her Dornish roots._

 _Toy with men._

And women... _so he'd heard._

Robb smiled small, eyeing the girl in a way she couldn't quite decipher. He leaned into her shoulder gently, pressing his forehead to her soft, tender shoulder. "...maybe you don't have to be, Ellie" He whispered softly against the girl's sweltering flesh. He lay a gentle kiss upon it.

Eliesse stopped swaying with the northern boy, and pulled back from his suddenly hot grasp. She met his eyes in confusion, curiosity and amusement. "What do you mean, Robb?" She stared deeply into the boy's eyes that had suddenly glazed over. His brows furrowed in worry...or perhaps nervousness. He blushed away from suddenly intense gaze, running his hand once more over the girl's warm arm. Eliesse's eyes followed his calloused fingertips that drew innocent swirls along her flushed skin.

"My parents asked me if I could _choose_ …" Robb suddenly stiffened, his hand trembling. "...who I wanted to marry...Who I believed I'd spend my days happiest alongside...I told them—

A loud crash startled the two dancing friends, turning their attention to the origin of the sound.

Jon had stood abruptly from his seat, a shattered wine flagon lay askew before him at his feet. He turned red, glancing to the floor…

...and then lifting his eyes quickly to Dornish woman. He wondered if she had saw…

Eliesse stared wide eyed at the bastard boy, the trembling in her heart beginning once more. He held her gaze, and even from across the great Stark feasting hall, she could feel and _imagine_ the sound of his thundering heart.

"Oi, Jon, are you okay?"

Eliesse watched as a dark haired girl in servants cloths walked to the startled boy. She was pretty...not by _high_ standards to say the least...but she had a pretty smile and grey eyes that were defyingly large, but made her look like a child's doll in the same respect. Jon turned to the girl quietly, taking the rag she extended to him. "Thank you Jemma…" she heard him whisper to the kitchen wench. Jemma smiled in return, a blush taking refuge on her pale face. "Anything for you, Jon", she smiled once more, her eyes glittering in a way that Eliesse recognized; she use to look at the bastard that way, too.

 _She still did._

The lioness felt her chest heave in fire.

It made sense now…

 _...there was someone else…_

"Eliesse, did you hear what I said?"

The bitter and aching Dorne girl turned swiftly to the boy who had fallen into the background.

Robb.

Eliesse stared at him, her anger and sadness dancing and dueling in her heart for dominance. She glanced silently over her shoulder, back to the boy and kitchen wench...who was happily wiping him off. He thanked her kindly, smiling small and polite in her direction.

"Ellie? Did you hear me?"

Eliesse turned once more back to Robb, her mouth slightly agape in sadness and fury. "No" without a second breath drawn or word spilt, she grabbed the young wolf by the back of his head, trapping her fingers in the tuffles of red curls. And just as quick as he'd spoken, she silenced the honorable lad with a firm, pressing kiss. Rob melted into her lips just as desperate as the young woman. He pulled her closer in at the waist, deepening his hold on the Dornish princess.

 _She tasted delicious._ Like a land he'd never known and ocean he'd never felt.

A loud cheer and banging of tables broke the two brazen teens apart. Eliesse watched as Robb turned red, smirking shyly away from the guards and castlemen who hollered and howelled the wolf's name. Her eyes drifted to an amused Royal Court, her uncle Jamie wide eyed and laughing, the Queen scowling, and a strange nod exchanged between the King and Lord Eddard Stark. Lady Catelyn smiled too, clapping in delight.

But it wasn't their approval or shock she sought.

She turned suddenly to the spot where a boy had once stood...a boy who possessed the damned girl's mind into sheer madness...who could make her act dishonorably, _just_ to elicit some pain in him that she wished he would feel like she had every day since they parted ways...

... _but no one stood where the boy had been._

It was all for nothing, she supposed.

 _Perhaps it was cruel, to use the boy's brother._

But what did it matter? The bastard surely hadn't seen and likely left alongside that kitchen wench to have his loins emptied at her doing. Or, perhaps he did see...but didn't care.

 _The Dornish girl was an essence of the past._ A love he'd never truly have...so he cast her away in haste of time wasted.

Eliesse bit her lip, the ache in her heart trembling louder. "Excuse me" she muttered, running towards the great hall's doors. Without a second glance spared, she thrust open the keep's doors, relishing in the familiar frosted wind that devoured her exposed, olive flesh. She inhaled deeply, her head tilting towards an ever watchful, black sky. She pressed her eyes shut once more, for sorrow began to pool in the corners of her eyes...all for a boy she loved but didn't know how to forget.

The snow crunched loudly beneath her tired feet as she stalked towards the Godswood, breaking the still night.


	8. Chapter 8

The canopy of the Godswood whispered gently against a frosty breeze…it danced with the looming darkness of Winterfell's quiet meadow, blanketing it in eerie wonder.

The great weirwood tree glared in unrequited knowledge at the Dornish girl that knelt humbly before its presence. It's grand, blood soaked leaves rumbled ominously in the dark night. Soft tremors of the black water pond broke the still air, serenading to olive ears that did best to block its chilling song.

Eliesse's eyes were closed. She cast away the dark chill that attempted to dance up her slender spine and enter her tender and aching soul.

She thought of her uncle, Lord Oberyn...his great, dark hands and gleaming white smile. " _My beautiful niece, Eliesse…"_ it felt as though it had been eons since she heard the great charmer and viper's voice. She frowned inwardly for a mere moment, wondering if she could even _remember_ the sound. Through her despair and churning sadness, she tried to invision his slender figure before her, speaking quiet wisdom from young, fruitful lips. " _A Martell does not weep for peasantries"_ she imagined her uncle saying over the chilled flesh of her shoulder. His dark eyes would smolder her own, striking down any tremble of weakness that would challenge them.

 _Still, the girl discovered she was weeping._

The young tiger vibrated quietly with sorrow she dared not speak. _She was embarrassed_...caught off guard by a resentful love she'd do best to cast away.

 _Yet the girl could do no such thing._

No, Jon Snow bewitched the ailing girl. She thought she could embody the proud lioness that the capital and all its _roaches_ had deemed her...but she just _couldn't._

Her heart was tender in all the places she needed it to be bold…

For the woman needed her heart to be strong _, unbent_ and unwavering for this bastard boy.

But what of his brother?

 _Robb Stark. Heir to Winterfell, Warden of the North coming...a Prince of Ice._

It was obvious so, the young wolf was smitten with the Dornish girl. So much so, she begged to consider what her playful banter could be doing to the boy. He was betrothed, but his words with the young lioness in Winterfell's great hall had given way to some secret truth whispered in the dead of cold nights…

 _Did he revoke his betrothal to the Frey girl?_

And how was his parents involved? _Catelyn Tully_ _ **was**_ _ever watchful since the woman's arrival…_

 _Most of all, why did the King nod_ _to Lord Stark?_

A twig snapping broke the girl's wishful prayers to Gods she knew nothing of. Still, Eliesse kept her eyes shut. She would not be moved or disturbed by any persons intrusivity. She darkly wished for a moment that if it _were_ a person who broke the still night, that they'd cut her down where she knelt.

 _It would make things much easier_ , she brewed defeatedly. Let the girl parish here before the ever ominous eyes of the weirwood trees. May her body sow and rot away to frozen filth that only ravens would find use for.

" _Pretty_ , little devil"

Her eyes flew open suddenly, her breath halting once more for one sound and _only_ one sound that could flip her world on its axis.

Her eyes welled silently in despairing moisture. She bit her lip between angry and scornful teeth...though his voiced aroused every pleasurable sensation her body had learned to love, it had become tainted in agony and resentment. Still, despite the entrance of his seemingly hoarse voice, the young lioness would not move from her knelt stature.

Jon Snow watched Eliesse's slender figure that was bare and barely concealed in her fine Dornish dress. Her back was naked and gleaming of smoldering olive flesh that he could barely taste upon boyish memory...and he knew the front of it was privied the same, likely defiantly sheer and dipping dangerously at the bodice.

He had followed her into the cold Godswood, watching the twist of her womanly hips with every drawing step.

The boy not too earlier had been having words with her _father_ , Lord Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf of Casterly Rock, when her sun-kissed figure lit the courtyard ablaze in the dark night. His senses heightened as he became suddenly aware of her presence. Foreign desire and possessiveness bit into the wolf's flesh, drawing out the feral animal in him that was both demanding and selfish for her touch and body to belong solely to it.

She had not seen the boy and her father...and as Jon fought hard to listen to Lord Tyrion's cunning but wise words, he found himself possessed by her abruptly apparent figure.

He walked slowly to her now, the light layer of frost crunching quietly under his dark boot. His eyes brooded the _heartless_ girl who never rose or acknowledged his presence. _Why would she, anyways?_

His breath came in shallow hymns, washing over the girl from the sudden proximity of his frame. She remained knelt, eyes closed and dancing with familiar dark lashes. She was so close, he could feel the southern heat radiating off her slender body. Still, the bastard wolf stood solemnly behind her, watching her as her breath escaped in meek wisps

" _Me?_ A _devil,_ you say?" She muttered quietly, never turning to face Jon's brooding figure. He regarded her slowly, watching the gentle rise and fall of her back. _She was visibly tense_. Her breaths were moments apart from one another, calculated and cautious. He wondered for a mere moment if it was _him_ who held the girl rigid and tortured.

He took quiet solace in the probable fact.

"Aye," Jon mumbled quietly, taking another daring step towards the unsuspecting beauty. She closed her eyes at the impending crunch of frost beneath the lad's boot. "Only a devil would lock lips with her lover's _brother_ "

"You are no lover of mine, Jon Snow" she whispered harshly, her eyes suddenly wide and hot with a painful fury. The Godswood lurched silently at her voice…

... _the weirwood tree was attentive to the Star-crossed pair._

"Of course. A _bastard_ has no right to seek out a _lady…_ " Jon was a man writhing in anger, pain, and toxic desire. It might've been true that the twos love would pose more damning than uplifting...and the _summerwine_ was proving to aid the boy no further...the lioness before him had ignited a strange rage and envy in him that nearly swallowed the wolf whole with every trying glance.

The wolf in him hungered indefinitely...its long winter slumber had ended at the soft rays of a southern sunshine, basking its barren, dark den...yes, the wolf was now alive, _ravenous_ , and in search of the one and only thing that could wet its appetite so…

 _A young lioness._

Jon quietly lifted a rough finger from his timid side while still looking down at the frozen girl before him. Gently, he captured a defiant curl from the dip in Eliesse's back. She jumped in shock at the cold touch. "I would do it again" Eliesse breathed suddenly, feeling Jon's capture of her wisping, golden lock. It wasn't _untrue._ Robb's kiss was tender, sweet and filled with more promise than this bastard had ever given to her…

... _at least that's what she believed._

"Would you now…" There was no warning or demand to Jon's hoarse words. He twirled the defiant curl _tighter_ in his finger until Eliesse felt a subtle sting from his abrupt aggression. Still the girl did not move, nor sway in her discomfort. She would not allow this boy to know he had an upper hand against her. Though, she silently cursed herself for leaving her guard so vulnerable in his presence. Jon had not hurt her, though she contested to be alarmed, to say the least...but of course, she had never seen this side of him before.

 _It turned her on._

"Yes, I would. I would Jon _Snow_. I would kiss your _Lord_ brother on his warm, tender lips over and over again. I'd kiss up and down the man's body until I found myself at the threshold of his pants! I would kiss him and tug at those pants until I could get them off and take his cock wholly into my _fucking_ mou—

Jon gripped a fistful of the girl's tresses between fingers trembling in anger, jealousy...and dare he say _lust._ Eliesse ignited a _rage_ in the boy with her silver tongue and daunting words that only a Dornish woman would be brazen and _talented_ enough to speak...hearing from her _serpent_ lips what she would do to the boy's _brother_ when he wished it were _he_ she acted upon, twisted his already aching heart in unexplainable envy and fury. And though the boy wanted to grab her and cast her away like her smoldering touch had burnt him, he could not. No, he grabbed the lioness instead by her mane of gold and yanked her from the ground she prayed from. In an instant, Jon's stormy eyes were locked on her own wild ones, battling for dominance and hiding despair. He stared at her, bewildered at her harsh and venomous words, hurting from their poisonous bite…

... _yet uncontrollably and strangely enough, he was turned on._

Eliesse.

 _ **His**_ _sweet Ellie of Dorne…_

 _...giving herself to_ _ **another**_ _man…_

 _...the boy's_ _ **brother**_...

 _..._ _ **was not an option**_.

He crushed his cold, trembling lips to her hot ones in a fury that nearly imploded the space between the pair. Eliesse gasped into the kiss, her hands immediately drawing up and against the bastard boy in protest. Still, he did not back away or honor her apparent refusal.

He grabbed her arms and thrusted them to her side, holding her in place against his suddenly hot body. He continued to deepen his seal on the lioness' plump lips. She fought back once more, freeing herself from his rough, calloused hands and attempting to push him away once more.

But soon, her hands slowed, the swatting and pushing subsided...and with it, their shock and urgency.

She felt herself melt into the boy's touch that had begun to gently wander across her curving hips and soft, exposed flesh of her back. Her heart, once thundering had begun to sputter out of control as she moaned and gasped in shock of it all. Jon wasted no moment and entered her mouth with a ravenous tongue, tasting the sweet flavors of her southern lips and causing the girl's knees to buckle. He groaned quietly into their frenzied kiss and called her name breathlessly. " _Eliesse…"_ he whispered against the girl's full lips as frantic breaths escaped in between. Jon began pulling the girl rougher against his trembling frame. Her middle seared and womanhood began to throb with familiar moisture for the bastard boy, as he too found his arousal and hardened against the lioness' slim body.

 _He needed her._

More than that, the animalistic wolf in him _begged_ to bury itself deep in the swells of her femininity. But Jon was the flip side of the animalistic coin within him. While the wolf _lusted,_ he wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of Eliesse's touch and wrap himself in the sweet, aromatic flesh of her burning body. He wanted to _make love to her_ , for five years was _too_ long to wait to taste and experience her flesh and love again. And though Jon had never taken a woman in his life, nor could understand _what_ exactly it _was_ he wanted of the girl, he knew he _needed it._

 _But only from_ _ **her.**_

Eliesse allowed herself to remember this. To rejoice in his familiar taste, _his familiar feel_...to cry in pain for the years that went by where his lips were both unfelt and unheard from. Silent tears streamed down the girl's flushed face as Jon nipped and sucked defiantly at her mouth. Truly, it was _all_ she ever wanted... _him._

 _All of him._

And once she had had her fill, she let it go.

 _Eliesse bit the wolf's lip harshly drawing an immediate stream of angry, red blood._

Jon Snow flinched away, burned by her sudden ferocity. The already tender cut in his lip from their encounter earlier in the day had reopened and was weeping once more down the boy's chin. He stared at Eliesse, bewildered and confused as to why she would cast him away so. For the few, _pleasurable_ moments, he thought she wanted him as much as he wanted her...and then she cast him away, _angrily._ "Ellie, what was that for? I thought...I mean, you kissed me bac—

A sharp and swift flick of Eliesse's hand collided with the flustered bastard's face for the second time of the day. The sound shattered the night and echoed into the meadows stillness, breaking the intimate moment that had quickly transpired and fizzled at once. In an instant, Eliesse's shrill gesture had sobered the boy that was confident with ale and wine.

"You cornered me! What would you have me do?" Eliesse spat angrily, her mouth full of bile and pain as she silently savored Jon's taste on her lustful tongue. Her chest was heaving, stolen of breath from Jon's brazen actions upon her. And though she wished to muster the courage and anger to lash him with venomous words, she suddenly couldn't find her voice to do so.

"I hardly did such a thing, Ellie...and you kissed me _back_. Tell me then at once you did not, Eliesse" Jon brooded, eyeing the girl scornfully.

While the wine clouded his judgement to a degree, Jon was _not_ an intrusive lad. He _did_ have honor, and he would never do a thing to any maiden unless he truly believed the action would be reciprocated or was wanted...It wasn't as though Ellie was a strange girl he had just become acquainted with...she was _his_ Ellie...the same young girl he'd whispered his love and devotion to countless nights many moons ago. She was the same girl, he'd kiss tenderly in dark corners of the castle...the same girl who would whisper to him her love for the bastard boy and dreams of wedding him in the sweltering sun of her homeland, seas away... _the same girl he'd written to night after night for nearly a_ _ **year**_ …and though the only letter he had ever gotten back from her was a scoff in the face of his devotion, she _had_ to still be the same girl, somewhere beneath her proud head and golden, venom filled eyes…

... _right?_

"Yes, I did. I did kiss you back. I kissed you because it felt _good_. I allowed your _snake_ tongue to slither within my mouth and tasted your lies, _because_ _it felt good to pretend it wasn't actually venom..._ truth be, I'd probably allow you to take me right here in the black waters of this fucking pond and it's filth, because it would _feel good_ to have your cock inside me. I won't deny it. _I won't deny you and the torture you inflict upon my soul_ …

...but I won't pretend like you aren't a _terrible man_ , a _liar..._ and a rotten _cheat._ If it was a _kitchen wench_ who beckoned and won your eye the moment I rode from your God forsaken gates, you could've done a gentleman's duty and—

"Kitchen wench?" Jon stared at the girl, a proud but quiet brow raised in confusion at Eliesse's words. She straightened, her cheeks flustering into peach. "What _kitchen wench?"_ Jon stared deeply into Eliesse's gold eyes, searching for a flicker of knowledge he'd do good to find on his own.

"The serving girl"

"What _serving girl?"_

"The one who happily cleaned you like the pathetic drunken _fool_ you are in the feasting hall!" Eliesse accused, turning away from the confused boy. Jon stared at her, unsure what _Jemma_ had to do with all the young lioness' hostility.

 _Oh…_

Jon glared at Eliesse, coming to stand before the stung with jealousy woman. _Did she truly believe a kitchen wench was who Jon loved?_

 _Had she_ _ **really**_ _not read one letter from the boy?_

"Eliesse, you'd be a damn fool to think—

"Oh fuck off now, would you _Snow._ I don't need to hear your tired woes or drunken excuses. I saw with my own eyes. The sight never lies" Eliesse waved the bastard off tiredly, fixing her dress at the bodice where Jon had drawn it askew. She began walking towards the undergrowth of the meadow that led to the familiar pathway out of the eerie woods.

"Eliesse! Stop, _please_ , listen to me, _I wrote you. I wrote you every day, I—_

"Yes, yes...of course _Lord Snow..._ and the bloody ravens became stricken with plague and turned mad, flying beyond the wall and not south for fucking _Casterly Rock_. Tragic, truly. Good day, _bastard"._

Without another valiant word spared from the lioness' slick lips and silver tongue, she continued down the pathway and out the Godswood, the pain ever radiating in her sore heart, and remnants of _lust_ sticking shamefully to her under clothes that she begged to forget about. She bit her lip that was tender and sore from the wolf's frenzy... _it was a good sore_ , though she would not speak ever of it to _him._ She held her head proud, as her father and the rest of the lion pride of Casterly Rock had taught the girl over her years in their presence.

Jon watched as the canopy of the Godswood swallowed the girl in darkness. He stared after her, his eyes furrowed in frustration and anger. _She_ was the one who didn't want _his_ words. Otherwise, he would have wrote her endless scrolls and scriptures until they met again…

... _but_ _ **she**_ _didn't want_ _ **him.**_

Typical, a woman and _Lannister_ nonetheless would find some way to pass the blame and grief to another, unfairly so or not. He licked his bruised lip, tasting rust and salt once more at its seam. Yet under it, he could still taste _her,_ and he did well to remember the flavor she seeped. He loathed the girl who tore his heart from his chest whilst it still pumped hot blood...and yet, he still wanted her. _All of her._ He wanted to kiss her again and again...he wanted to memorize the taste of the lioness' mouth, and if she allowed, the taste of the _rest_ of her.

He shook his head, casting the defiant and lustful thought away. The wolf in him howled deeply at the ever observant moon of his soul and retreated quietly back to the den of the bastard's mind. He sat in a huff against the strange weirwood tree, closing his eyes in exhaustion brought on from indulging in summerwine and a neurotic woman.

 _A northern wind danced through the Godswood as the weirwood tree began to excrete fresh sap, its eyes becoming ever aware of the bastard at its root._

—

 _Deep in the feasting hall of Winterfell, the King and his Guard, and Winterfell's great Lord and Lady continued the festivities of the evening._

Yes, many weeped of Lord Arryn...whispers and calls of his tender heart and honorable soul drifted throughout the great hall, as many men and women recalled the Hand's kind nature.

Lord Eddard Stark sat solemnly at his ark, his wife, Catelyn Tully—Stark by marriage, laughed at the banter before her. He smiled too, enjoying the jesters who swooned with summerwine and fell clumsily amongst another as they attempted to host entertainment for the Lord and his Royal keep. Yet, quietly, Ned's mind wandered to his good friend, _brother's_ request for him to replace Lord Arryn as his Hand.

The request troubled Lord Stark beyond this world's knowledge...he couldn't quite place a finger upon his disdain for the request. His place was in the north, raising his brood and reigning over the vast north and God forsaken wall beyond its seams. But most of all, his place was with his _brood._

Little Rickon needed a man to raise him with a certain type of honor Lord Stark had boasted upon his elder brood...Bran was ever risqué, charming, _sweet,_ but needed direction to becoming a true marksman...Arya, her wild wolf soul needed a right amount of taming...Sansa was too soft and eluded to fairytale...and Robb...his firstborn son and _heir_ to these vast frozen lands was in need of Lordly direction. He was to be groomed for duty and taught the Stark way. Honor and strength, fierce and a solid leader. After all...

 _...winter was coming._

"What in the seven hells is it going to take for you to crack a smile, Ned?" Robert Baratheon boomed, spewing pork and wine onto his grizzly, greying beard. He churned his wine glass slowly, an amused look grazing his hollow eyes.

Ned turned to him quickly, his thoughts halting and becoming clouded at his dear friends brashness. "I am content, Robert. What more could I ask for then to be surrounded by friends and family" Ned smiled, touching his wife's hand. Robert nodded, glancing to the drunken fools before him. He pondered, taking a drawing sip of his chalice. Ned faltered. _He knew that face._ It was a face Robert would make whenever he had something difficult to ask of the man.

"What choice have you made regarding my request?" Robert asked quietly, his words slipping past any lingering ears. Ned frowned, eyes averted above the bunch of men and women before him. "You've had time to ponder it".

Lord Stark furrowed his brows, brooding at the men of his grand hall who ravaged wine, ale and women alike. His great, rough and calloused hand rubbed tiredly at his stubbled face. He lifted his chalice, taking a hesitant sip. "You've bid me a few request, Your Grace" he said slowly, eyeing his true friend.

Robert stared at Ned, eyes sharp and brows tangled in scorn. Suddenly, he boomed with laughter, swatting the quiet Lord on his back. "Ye make it seem like I ask for a pound of your flesh, Stark"

"You just might be, Your Grace…" Ned spoke again, this time with a slight amused smile. Robert smiled in return, leaning back in his great chair. He pondered his dear friends words deeply and took another exasperated gulp of his wine.

"The proposal is _fair..._ it works in both our favors, Ned...if Robb weds Eliesse, he will succeed the southern territories of Dorne by marriage. Dornish culture _differs_ from our way...just because the girl weds, does not mean she loses her claim to her lands... _especially_ if she _is_ heiress to Sunspear alongside Doran's son Trystane. Yes, Doran rules Dorne, is high lord of Sunspear and bares a son, but Trystane is _soft..._ a _perceived cripple_ in other ways alike his father. Dorne will not rise for his claim...if Eliesse marries Robb, she will oversee from the north, her lands fostered and looked after by her named advisor, perhaps even by _childish_ Trystane if she allows it...She may become a Stark by marriage but a _Martell_ for all birthright claim and respect by her native _savages._ Eliessia and Elia Martell were the princesses of Dorne. Elia was the sun and Eliessia the _spear._ Dorne bends the knee to their warrior-princess' daughter, especially since they crave vengeance for both princess' deaths. Dorne quietly curses Doran's name for his silence in the wake of their deaths...Eliesse is highly favored for rule. They know she is the true warrior incarnate of her mother...and Trystane the soft _fool_ like his father" King Robert cooed to the old wolf, a glint in his eye that was unfamiliar to his once, sworn brother. Ned sighed, his head tilted in wary.

"Yes, all good things for _Eliesse_ , but what of Robb? He would be sentenced to live his life in Eliesse's shadow" Ned turned empathetically to his firstborn son who sat amongst proud and _drunk_ men of the Winterfell Guard. They patted the lad on the back, extending wine and whores his way. He smiled politely nonetheless, refusing both.

 _Honorable._ Like Ned had raised him to be.

"Robb is heir to Winterfell, Warden of the North when his time comes…and may that time be eons away...he will rule these cold lands and by marriage have direct claim as well to the south…"

Robert lurched his grand body forward to peer deeper into his beloved friends wary eyes. "Don't you _see_ Ned...if you come south and be my Hand, your son's marriage to the girl will ease our control of the turbulent lands...The Gods know Dorne could be planning an uprising and raise its banners in redemption of Elia and Eliessia, _despite_ Doran's silence...he cannot control _Oberyn,_ and his hunger for revenge _...Oberyn speaks to his people!_...but once they see their little viperess aligned with the north and associated with the Hand _and_ King of Westeros... _they will bend the knee once and for all._ You will whisper to Robb, and then he will whisper to his wife and she will _hiss_ to her people. We can sleep easy with nightmares and worry of Dorne planning a rebellion...Eliesse inspires her people and _all_ the common folk of Westeros...the way they chant that damned girl's name throughout my Capital worries me...we need her compliance. And once she bares a son for Robb, that grandson of yours will succeed the north after his father...and if she bares another boy after, _he_ will succeed the south in her name. A Stark in the north, a Stark in the south, and a Stark as the Hand of the King. Your honorable and loyal blood will run fierce through my kingdoms and I will sleep easy once and for all" Robert's eyes were drunk with a mad desire for control and power. Eddard frowned at the look, unsure when his dear friend had garnered such an appetite…

...yet the Lord could not deny his strange friends words.

It was true, Robb's succession to Winterfell was imperative. Equally as important, _who_ his son wed would directly affect his reign in the North. It was once believed that Walder Frey's alliance by marriage was the _highest_ favor to the Stark's, with The Twins being one of the primary crossings over the Green Fork of the Trident River. Their wealth was attested by charging travelers crossing The Twins, as well as their importance to the Stark's coming from their infantry and armies being one of the largest in the Riverlands and position being favorable by foreseeing most battle attempts. _Nothing got by The Twins without their knowledge,_ he remembered his father saying long ago.

But that was the only value in Robb marrying a Frey girl. Loyalty, wealth and armies. The north would be secured, its allegiance running deeper into the south…

...But Eliesse poses a greater benefit. _And the farthest reach to the south._

Beyond that, Eddard knew she was a _honorable girl._ She was witty, strong, fierce...yet, soft, kind and loving.

 _The true makings of a honorable wife and battle companion._

"If Dorne be so important to your long and _peaceful_ reign, why not marry Myrcella to Doran's boy Trystane? You'd have direct claim then, would you not, Your Grace? No one would question his birthright to Sunspear if he was betrothed to the King's daughter" Ned remarked, eyeing his drunken friend knowingly. King Robert scoffed, shaking his fat head. He set his chalice down roughly on the ancient wood before him.

"Trystane will not inherit Sunspear, and even if he does, the people will uproar for more decades of _weak_ leadership...as I have said, Ned, Eliesse is the _favorable_ successor. Oberyn is alive and well, much to our misfortune...the only good thing, is the pompous snake doesn't have any trueborn children himself. He fostered Eliesse from birth, though she is not his direct brood, she carries his blood. The only successors since Oberyn has no heirs, are Doran's _pansy_ son, and Eliessia's daughter. Doran is a cripple, he will perish and Oberyn's reign will likely begin, as Trystane is assumed a mere boy with _cowardly_ blood. Oberyn will endorse Eliesse as he sees her as his own daughter. Once Oberyn is dead and rotting like his sickly brother, Trystane and Eliesse will be the only two heirs. Dorne culture does not predescend males only to the high seat. The strongest _warrior_ is who will rise to the house's highest seat, once Dorne protests Trystane's succession and calls for the Viperess to rise. Oberyn will leave his last request no doubt for Eliesse to succeed him, as she is a full fledged Martell by blood and his sweet sister's brood. Trystane will contest on grounds that _his_ father was the Prince of Dorne and high lord of Sunspear. A duel will transcend to determine who will sit on the high seat and _Eliesse_ _ **will**_ _kill the boy and cut him down where he stands._ _ **She**_ _is the Viperess of Dorne!_ " Robert suddenly whispered loudly, his hands trembling in a madman's paradise.

Ned frowned, turning to his wife who respectfully was turned away from the two men's conversation...though Ned _knew_ his wife and that she was surely listening to every word he spoke.

 _She likely agreed,_ much to Ned's silent dismay.

"Besides, I could not marry Myrcella to Trystane anyhow...she'd be killed in a day after arriving in the desert. She embodies a true _Lannister,_ yellow haired and green eyed...the streets would hiss once she stepped foot off that boat. I won't risk my only daughter's life…"

"But you'd risk your niece's, Robert?" Ned questioned quietly, a sadness inching into his honorable eyes. He did not agree with Robert's logic. "Do you not worry of the girls safety with a _Lannister_ last name in the _north_?"

Robert smirked inwardly, his silence festering silent knowledge that he would not share, not even with his dear friend Ned. He gingerly lifted his chalice once more and threw back the last of his summerwine. "She wouldn't be a Lannister for long by _northern_ traditions if she married your boy. Besides, you think I worry about the girl? Aye, I _do not._ No, no, a troubled thought doesn't wet my mind about that girl, Ned…" he chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating Ned's ears. He frowned once more at his King brother.

"Why, Robert?"

"Why? _Why!"_ Robert boomed in laughter once more. "Tell me something Ned…

 _...have you seen the Viperess strike?"_

—

Soft beams of sunlight fought through dark tapestries. Eliesse's nose scrunched unpleasantly at the ever brooding sun that beckoned the girl to wake from her long slumber. Softly, her eyes flickered, drowning in the bright light that nearly fooled the girl into believing it were a Dornish sun and not northern.

"Hello, daughter"

Eliesse sprang from her sheets, eyes wide and snatching modestly at the bear pelt upon her nearly bare, slender frame. "Seven hells, what is the meaning of this?" Eliesse gasped, meeting the ever bored stare of Tyrion Lannister.

"I was waiting for you to wake, my child. I was hoping you'd accompany me to breakfast in the Royal Wheelhouse this morn...I _did_ miss you at last night's feast...where _did_ you run off to my sweet?" Tyrion glanced warily upon the young lioness, one hand neatly tucked behind the smallest Lannisters tunic, the other fingering a chalice. "Well? It must've been better than the feast...since I didn't see you return, girl".

Eliesse stared sharply at Tyrion, her full lips becoming suddenly dry and silent. She bit her lip roughly, glancing between the space surrounding her father and her chamber doors. "I visited the Godswood to pray".

" _Pray?_ Gods, Ellie...I didn't know that _prayer_ was something you partook in. When did that habit form? Casterly Rock? The capital? Perhaps it was hiding since Do—

"I will join you for breakfast. I just need a moment to dress, _father_ " Eliesse interjected, suddenly aware of why her dear father had graced her with his looming presence.

"Good! Wonderful! I will let the kitchen wenches know you prefer your bread with honey and not butter...see you soon, then, love" Tyrion tipped his glass to his apprehensive daughter who nodded delicately at his departure from her chambers. She exhaled her breath, unrealizing that she had even been holding it in the first place.

 _Had he saw the girl?_

She pondered the prospect curiously. Yes, Tyrion Lannister was an ever sleuth man who's sight bore twice his height and hundred of yards beyond. Eliesse recalled a few times where Thara has warned the girl of her father…

" _Lord Tyrion means well, and his love is most gentle and observant of you. No matter the time or distance, you are still his daughter and I would beg you do behave as such. They say the walls have ears and halls eyes that penetrate deeper than chainmail. Sometimes I imagine these facts are not just childish warning, but a description of your daring father"_

Though Eliesse loathed Jon Snow painfully, she did not wish for harm to come to the bastard boy. It was true, despite all his _treachery_ to the sore girl, she still _loved_ him. Perhaps, she never would _stop_. The thought scared the girl beyond belief. What life could come to a girl if her heart would be always chained to man who had no key to free her?

 _Or any intention, for that matter._

Thara opened the doors to Eliesse's chambers quietly. "My flower, I have received word from your father that you are to grace him with your presence this morning. He sends for me to ready you...a bath perhaps then, my sweet?" Thara smiled softly at Eliesse, crossing the room in only a few swift strides to stand before the lioness. She began to unravel the braid from Eliesse's hair she had placed to secure it for her night rest. Eliesse nodded meekly, glancing between the kind woman and her chamber windows.

 _A black raven lay perched quietly, watching the woman with ever curious eyes._

"Perhaps the morning feast can wait…" Eliesse muttered quietly eyeing the little, black beast. She closed her eyes, _a familiar tingle sprouting in the depths of her core._

Abruptly, Thara grabbed the young woman, roughly shaking her from her slender shoulders. Eliesse's eyes flew open in shock, as she stared at her most trusted friend. " _No, Eliesse! Not here!_ You know it is far too dangerous to dream with your eyes awake in these lands! If someone were to find you—

"They would think I was having a seizure. Is that not what you have told people over my years? No one would _know_ —

"I forbid it. It does not matter...we are not in the _south_ where these _talents_ are mostly unheard of and fall on ignorant minds...we are in the north...in the lands of the _First Men..._ the stories of these men and their magic to morph from man to beast are whispered tirelessly over feasts and fires for generations, by northern men and old women to gentle babes who lay still awaiting sleep...they would _know_ what has happened to you, what you have _done,_ and what you _are! They would realize that your blood...a Martell and Lannister...you_ _ **shouldn't**_ _be able to—_

"Thara, stop! You listen to too many tales of wet nurses! If it will trouble your mind this much than I will refrain...I just don't understand why you cry so! And what of this nonsense of _First Men_? Who are these men you speak of and what in the seven hells does that have to do with me? And what the bloody hell does it matter that I am in the north and it differs from the south? You speak riddles, woman" Eliesse scoffed tiredly, shrugging out of her night dressings. She walked to her bathing chamber and began to pick oils and herbs for her water. Thara followed the girl quietly, and began to fill her tub meekly. Her dark eyes lay focused on her task at hand as she dared not let loose another word to the Dornish girl.

 _She had said to much already, in her haste._

"It is nothing, my flower. I suppose I am just paranoid for your safety. I don't know what these _people_ would do if they discovered you. I made a promise to your uncle...I do not wish to dishonor him" she spoke gently, coming to the irritated girl. She rested a rough hand upon the girl's tender cheek and smiled as passionately as her quietly trembling heart would allow. "Come. We mustn't keep Lord Tyrion waiting".

—

Eliesse chewed her porridge slowly, delicately ripping pieces of her bread and carefully dipping it in honey first, before her bowl. The Royal Wheelhouse was deafening silent as Tyrion ate his own breakfast in hush, every now and then taking a break to wet his sly mouth with wine. "And how _did_ you enjoy last evenings festivities, Ellie?" He asked suddenly, glancing from above his chalice at his brooding daughter.

Eliesse glanced up slowly, a quiet scowl playing at her lips. She chewed her food sluggishly, flickering her eyes to Lord Tyrion's chalice and then back to her bowl. "It was fine, boring perhaps. I didn't see you, come to think of it my Lord".

"I was there...briefly...and then I was gone. The Stark's feasting halls lack ventilation. I found myself on a quiet perch above the great chamber, enjoying my wine with the ambiance of the north dancing all around me. It truly is exquisite, dear Ellie. What of the _snow,_ thick green brush...there seems to be a lingering of firewood within these great walls. I quite enjoy it" Tyrion spoke eloquently, wafting his wine glass about the small table. He eyed his daughter curiously. There was a change in the girl since the moment he'd informed her of the King's request of her presence on their trip north. He couldn't quite put his finger on it...but he felt it had something to do with Ned Stark's _bastard._

 _Yes, the little, cunning Lord had been having words with the boy last night, outside of Winterfell's feasting hall. He remembered watching the boy and thinking how much he resembled his Lord Father...pitty be Stark's other trueborn brood looked nothing of him as well._

 _And then, the chamber doors opened and suddenly the quiet, frosted courtyard was lit ablaze by smoldering olive flesh. He glanced around the bastard boy to his daughter who was quickly making her way to the Godswood. He pondered for a moment if she should follow her...the quickness in her step was a sure tell of something ailing the young lioness. He opened his mouth slightly, perhaps to call out to her...when he noticed someone was already in step._

 _Jon Snow._

" _Leaving our conversation so soon, Snow?" He called curiously. The boy was fixated, unmoving from his gaze on Tyrion's daughter. His eyes almost made the little Lord uncomfortable, like he were witnessing a man admiring his wife from afar. He wondered, for a moment, why Jon was so distracted suddenly._

 _Surely it was Eliesse's beauty, it must be. After all, many of the northern men had noticed his pretty daughter the moment she trotted through the gates. Hells, even most men within the Kingsguard had as well. Whispers seemed to always follow the Dornish girl from wherever she rested or stood. It was unsettling for Tyrion, to say the least. He felt helpless. He knew he could not protect the girl the way she would've needed from ravaging eyes and hands._

 _But who was he kidding? She didn't need it._

" _Sorry, My Lord. I think...I might've left something...in my chambers. If you'll excuse me…" Jon Snow muttered, his voice never synchronizing with his eyes...eyes that were beyond Tyrion and anything else surrounding them._

 _Yes, they were following a young girl deep into the forest...perhaps they were good friends...she had visited the north some time ago, after all._

 _Tyrion watched as Jon quickly ran to Winterfell's tiny tower that was located on the deserted end of the castle. Fitting quarters for a bastard. But he was no fool…_

 _...he knew that tower lay at the edge of the Godswood and provided excellent accessibility to its meadows from a timid door, unseen from the front of the tower._

 _Tyrion pursed his lips._ _ **What are you up to bastard,**_ _he thought to himself._

"Well, _hello_ , sweet niece!" Jaime Lannister walked boldly into the wheelhouse abruptly and sat in a pompous might beside the Lannister girl. His teeth gleamed white as they were engulfed in a sly smile that didn't quite reach the King Slayer's eyes. Tyrion smiled briefly, watching his brother who seemed to be in high spirits so suddenly this morn. Perhaps the dashing lion had found himself a maiden to play with the night before.

"What do we owe the honor, dear brother!" Tyrion exclaimed loudly, aided happily by summerwine and the promise of whores this afternoon for lunch. Jaime smiled sheepishly at his brother, turning quietly to his ever still niece of who continued to eat her breakfast, unmoved by the two Lannister brothers banter.

"The honor is mine, little brother. I have left the Stark halls...and the whispers are most _interesting_ , to say the least" Jaime cooed slyly, eyeing his niece devilishly. Eliesse felt her arm go rough with goose flesh as she fought valiantly to keep her suddenly thundering heart at bay. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes never faltering or rising to meet her uncle's. She was concerned of what they could show...or what they would scream…

 _Jon Snow._

"Do get on with it, dear uncle. While I'm sure these rumors must be the highlight of your boring, barren life as a Kingsguard, you should assume that us other Lannisters _do_ have lives to get back to" Eliesse suddenly spoke evenly, popping a grape into her mouth. She cocked a brow at the yellow-haired man, gesturing him on. "Well?"

Jaime smirked, chuckling at the never dying sleuth and cunn of his dear niece. He was proud, for it was surely some of his doing, to say the least. "The castle whispers your name, girl" Jaime muttered softly, tucking a tender, gold curl behind the lioness' mane. He watched it slyly, wishing for a flinch or quiver of knowingness to reflect in her golden eyes.

But she did not bend.

"And what _does_ the castle whisper, dear uncle?" She mused, rolling her angelic eyes. Jaime smirked, glancing between her and her suddenly attentive father who had quietly refilled his chalice during the verbal spar between the two.

"The castle whispers of you... _and a certain northern wolf"_ Jaime pressed, winking at his niece in defiance. He took a bite of her porridge, chewing ever slowly and full of slight. "Oh, they whisper and whisper…"

Eliesse felt her skin go white hot and then chill, abruptly. She slowly placed her spoon down, concentrating on managing the sudden tremble that had begun to wash through her slender, olive arms. She kept her eyes down, averting of her uncle or father. For the first time in the Dornish girl's life, she was afraid to meet someone's eyes. She was _terrified_ of what they see, what they'd know and what they'd _do._

Wild images of Jon being dragged outside Winterfell's gates to a dark, sticky stone that was etched red and stinking of flesh and rot, swept through the girl's usually fierce mind.

She'd done it. She'd gotten the bastard killed _._

 _Oh Jon, no...no, no, no! I have to leave, I have to warn him! I have to—_

"I never figured _Robb Stark_ for your type, sweet girl...I always thought kind, chivalrous men were _far_ off your radar. You surprise me, niece" Jamie rose from his seat beside the girl who had suddenly widened as though she had trapped a breath deep within her ribs.

 _Her father had noticed, though commented nothing to the fact._

"If you are referring to our _kiss_ last night—

" _Kiss?"_ Tyrion finally spoke, setting his chalice down gently. He peered deeply at his daughter, a strange tension festering in the imp's stomach. "What _kiss?"_

" _Last night_ ," Eliesse rolled her eyes tiredly. "Robb and I were dancing...perhaps too much summerwine was our downfall. We kissed. Nothing more, nothing less" Eliesse stood from her seat, shooting her King Slayer uncle a deafening scowl. _You arse…_ she thought ominously as she sipped her own wine. She did not wish to sit in the _fucking_ Royal Wheelhouse any longer and listen to the laughter of one man and woes of another over a mere instance of drunken banter. She had other things to worry about and fester over…

... _him._

"Eliesse, perhaps a conversation should ensue over how a _lady_ should conduct herself in the presence of the King— Tyrion Lannister began, hopping awkwardly off his own chair and coming to stand before the suddenly irate young woman.

" _Perhaps,_ this type of conversation of a _lady's conduct_ should ensue from more fitting lips than a man's who would do most to know only of a _whores_ conduct on her knees and on her back. I'll be sure to arrange for such a lesson some time soon, so don't fret _father_. Good day, my Lords" Eliesse spoke eloquently, popping one last grape between her full lips. She turned quickly, eyeing her uncle from beneath golden eyes and dark lashes. He chuckled slightly, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the lioness' _venom_ in her words.

"Farewell for now, sweet niece" He called mockingly after the girl.

Eliesse entered Winterfell's vast courtyard that was a bustle of common folk and chainmail clinking tirelessly into the icy air. She hugged her arms cursingly, realizing she'd left her pelts in the Royal Wheelhouse with her _arse_ of an uncle and drunken father who's sudden concern in her _conduct as a lady_ had aroused an annoyance in the girl unlike anything she'd experienced before. _Who was_ _ **he**_ _to lecture her on her conduct? Did he not spend his days drinking and whoring?_ Never mind that, he had _never_ shown an _ounce_ of fatherhood to the girl in her entire life. He must be daft!

"My lady!" A man's voice called to Eliesse. She turned suddenly, seeing familiar tuffles of red and sky blue eyes.

 _Robb Stark._

She blushed slightly, embarrassed by his presence. Her lips suddenly tingled as she recalled his savory taste on them. _Cold ice_ , she thought. _With a hint of mint_.

"Hello, My Lord. I hope you are in good spirits this morn" She smiled mischievously at the young wolf, rolling every syllable in her lustful Dornish drawl. _She loved toying with these boys..._ perhaps she shouldn't. Especially not with Robb... _he seemed to take her banter the most serious of the men in Winterfell._

Robb blushed slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips that shone brightly against his blue eyes. He took the Dornish girl's hand into his own and kissed it tenderly. "The best of spirits, my lady. Would you care to join me for some training...I'm practicing my marksmanship. Do you train in these arts?" He asked curiously, extending his arm. Eliesse smiled small and accepted his gesture, as he led her through he busy yard to the training grounds.

Eliesse pondered for a moment, unsure if she meant to _play_ _more_ with this silly, lustful boy. She smirked up into his pretty blue eyes, batting her eyes softly. "I _have_...I am a bit rusty, perhaps you'd like to help me strengthen my _skills_ ".

Robb stopped suddenly, glancing down at the silver tongued girl. _She speaks seductively so...a Dornish temptress..._ he thought to himself as a familiar pulse began in his loins. "Of course, my lady…" he pressed on, leading her around the corner of the barn to the familiar patch of hay and dummies. "...Jon will assist as well".

Eliesse stopped abruptly just as she'd ventured the corner with Robb. She flinched inwardly at the painful sight of dark curls and stormy grey eyes.

 _He fired a shot at the target, nearly touching the bullseye._

"Robb, I almost touched that time! You better catch up, brother…" Jon turned with a rare smile to his brother. Abruptly, the color drained from his face as his smile fell into a open frown. "El— _my lady"_ He muttered quietly, suddenly going rigid. His hands began to tremble at his side as he averted his eyes shamefully down. He began to remember their last encounter and his behavior that was tainted by summerwine. He remembered the glistening streams of tears that travelled from her beautiful gold eyes and alongside her tender, _soft_ and supple lips. He peered up quietly to the Dornish girl, stealing a pressing glance through his dark hair.

 _She probably hated the lad._

"Jon Snow" she greeted, no emotion dripping from her swelling lips. Jon cringed slightly, turning away from her and lifting his bow. He readied another shot…

"Eliesse has come to join us in training, brother. She wishes to brush up on her marksmanship" Robb smiled, eyeing the girl. "Come now, Eliesse. This is our smallest bow... _Bran practices with it"_ Robb extended a chipped bow to the girl who eyed it curiously.

 _I know how to use a fucking bow, Robb. "_ Thank you...She lifted it curiously, fingering its rickety tendrils. She peered at Robb who watched her _too_ adoringly...her sight shifted to Jon... _who would dare not look at her._ He began strumming his bow, smiling and waving to familiar folk in the yard. Eliesse followed his gaze curiously...a stableman, a Septa...and _her._

 _Jemma_.

Eliesse felt her stomach lurch and twist in white, hot heat. _That bastard…_

She turned suddenly to Robb who was awaiting her to arm. "Robb, would you be a _kind sir_ and give me a hand. The bow is heavier than I thought" she mused sweetly, eyeing the wolf like cattle. Robb nodded quickly, rushing to the girl's side. He placed his hand under her arm, tenderly running his fingertips across her bare flesh that was exposed by her slinky, Dorne dress. Thought Eliesse were merely using the boy for vengeful purposes, she could not deny that every inch of flesh the boy touched became lit and spotted with more goose flesh.

She watched entranced as Robb shifted closer to her, standing behind her. She felt his hard, chiseled front against the small of her back and bottom. She blushed slightly, his hot breath tickling her ear from behind defiant curls. "...raise your arm...loosen your elbow…" he whispered so close to her ear, she could feel his lip brush her slightly. She closed her eyes at the sensation for a moment. Robb's free hand came to capture the girl's own as he directed her to raise the arrow to the bow...pull back slowly... _her breast exposed slightly at the gesture..._ and, _release._

Eliesse opened her eyes as slowly, aware suddenly that they had been closed during her shot.

 _Bullseye._

She exhaled in disbelief, turning to Robb who still held her tightly against him. Their noses nearly touched as she stared deeply into his eyes with an excited smile. Eliesse was captivated by anything _skill attesting_. She craved warriorship... she lusted for the ability to become the greatest soldier there ever was...for her homeland, for her uncle…

... _for her mother._

Robb stared back, his eyes holding something beyond excitement in marksmanship. Something Eliesse was naive of, but still continued to brew deep in the young wolf's soul…

Eliesse snapped back to her conscious, suddenly aware of where she was and _whose_ arms she was basked in. Her eyes veered suddenly to another wolf who was _ever watchful_ of the pair.

 _Jon._

Jon stared at the two painfully, his eyes holding pain, contempt and _jealousy._ His chest suddenly felt as though it were collapsing in on the boy as he calmly placed his bow down. He glanced up at his brother who was pleasantly distracted in the lioness. "Robb, I am calling it a day for training. I will see you at dinner…" he stood suddenly, whistling to the courtyard.

 _A white dire wolf trotted into the grounds, startling Eliesse._

She stared in awe at the beast she'd heard so much of but had never seen. _Perhaps that's why he'd named him Ghost._

"...lady Eliesse. Farewell, good luck in your training" Jon spoke suddenly, patting the albino pup on his head. "Come on now, boy" he gestured the wolf forward, slipping quietly from the suddenly chilling grounds.

Eliesse watched quietly, her heart trembling in the usual manner it had become accustomed to whenever Jon was near. She bit her lip, turning harshly away from the sight of his slowly vanishing silhouette. "Where were we?" She mustered a proud smile, picking back up her bow and gesturing to Robb.

—

Blood soaked leaves fell quietly among a dimly lit meadow. The northern wind shook the thick with brush canopy of the Godswood as Jon Snow sat quietly in ponder against the ancient weirwood tree. The wind created soft ripples in the black pond water beside Jon as he quietly fumbled the forest floor for small pebbles to toss into its deep blackness.

The boy's heart had only just began calming from the rapid pace it once had taken. Images of Eliesse within his brother's arms plagued his mind, igniting a fury of pain and jealousy in the bastard boy.

It was true, despite how she spoke to him…despite her _anger,_ her words and coldness towards the lad…

... _he loved her true, with all his heart._

Even if she saw him as only a _bastard._ He would gladly lay down his life for the girl if she asked...he would be _her_ bastard for the rest of his unimportant life if it only meant that she'd smile at him. His head dipped suddenly at the pestering and despairing thought. _His sweet, Ellie…_

A furry face nuzzled under the boy's arms, prodding his face upward. _Ghost._ "Come to watch me sulk, boy?" Jon whispered quietly to the direwolf. Ghost's ears quietly sprang up from his snow, white head. Deep, ominous red eyes bore into Jon's own as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. _Ghost_ always knew how to cheer him up.

The wolf pup rose from between Jon's legs, walking off into the meadows. He stopped inquisitively, turning his large head to peer at Jon beckoningly. Jon sighed deeply, head falling once more in defeat. "Aye, I know that look...you want to hunt. All right then, on with it" Jon pulled himself from his despair and stood slowly from his seat between the great tree. "You better catch something this time, Ghost. I don't think Lady Stark will allow you into the halls again tonight after my _scene_ at last night's meal…" Jon muttered harshly, inwardly cringing at the memories that played across his innocent mind.

He took a daunting step forward toward the wolf, and stumbled suddenly. He fell forward in a might, his hands scraping roughly against the cold, frozen ground. "Seven hells...when did this root come up?" Jon cursed silently as he rose from the ground once more. His hands stung of fresh blood as he placed them against the strange tree to steady himself.

Jon stared curiously at the root that seemed to appear overnight. The boy had spent countless days and nights, shunned and fleeing of taunting words and eyes...he'd run to this Godswood, and sit in the lap of the weirwood tree and dream of lands far from scornful eyes. All that time spent...and he'd never tripped once on the weirwood tree. The root simply had never been…

 _...until now._

Jon felt his hand sting that steadied against the weirwood tree. He withdrew it slowly, observing the bloodied mess of his torn flesh. He glanced back to the tree which held his bloody hand print hostage. The sight sent a strange chill up his back as he observed the twisted face with his new, bloody handprint at its lips.

A strange whimper slipped from Ghost's nuzzle as he stalked slowly to Jon at the weirwood tree. "What is it boy?" Jon asked, kneeling to meet his red gaze. He pat the wolf's head, comforting his suddenly rigid figure.

Abruptly, Ghost withdrew once more from the boy's touch. He lowered his nose to the cold, forest floor...a sniffing and huffing noise slipped from the wolf as he began nuzzling and sniffing the root that'd nearly broke the bastard's leg.

 _Suddenly, the wolf began scratching..._ _ **digging,**_ _at the root of the tree._

"Ghost! Enough of that! Father will have your head and mine if he finds claw marks on this stupid tree…" Jon warned, trying to push the direwolf from the root and ground it clawed frantically at. " _Ghost!"_

An odd noise seeped from between the wolf's paws. It was like the sound of a rock scraping against a box or hitting one of the tables in the great feasting hall. Ghost had suddenly stopped and began to sniff curiously. He turned his great head upwards at the boy and stepped away silently.

Jon stared curiously at the dog and knelt forward once more. "What have you got there, boy…" Jon whispered lowering himself to the strange root and under it. He hesitated, trying to steady himself once more against the great weirwood. He glanced up at his bloody print, worried to cause another as he attempted to hold the tree for support…

 _...but the bloody hand print was gone._

Jon stood quickly, eyes wide in shock and horror.

His handprint…was _gone._ Blood drips and all... _vanished._

He stared into the eyes of the strange weirwood tree, feeling the chill return to his spine, but this time it was wet with fear. The weirwood tree began to excrete fresh, _blood red sap._

 _It drank my blood,_ Jon's mind screamed as he fought to remain composed. Familiar scratching and digging snapped his wary attention back to his wolf pup who had managed to free something that was placed within the dirt and under the weirwood's root.

 _It was a tiny box._

Jon knelt once more, touching the smooth plains of the strange box, recognizing that it was carved of fine oak. He picked it up and turned it about, trying to figure out what in the seven hells it was and how it got under the weirwood tree.

A sudden click startled Jon as the bottom of the box released quickly. Jon jumped from fright as he leapt from the cold, Godswood ground. He stared down at his feet, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, he knelt, and began to run his fingers along multiple, parchments that looked terribly old by their darkening color of brown and yellow. There must've been at least a hundred...he began spreading them out, his hands barely levitating above the loose scrawls.

Slowly, he drew one from the strange pile and began to unravel it. Ghost watched curiously from his side as he began to nuzzle his master's neck that had suddenly run cold with sweat.

Jon opened the parchment slowly, eyeing the fine, wisping handwriting that covered it...he couldn't quite make out most of the words, seeing as the paper was terribly aged and damaged...still, he scanned it, reading various words…

" _Love...my heart is outside my body with you gone...Casterly Rock...summer...my horse Snow…"_

Jon flew from the ground, his heart erupting in a fit of shock, _disbelief_ , love...and _**anger**_.

 _This couldn't be...this_ _ **can't be**_... _all these are_ _ **letters**_ _..._ Jon's mind suddenly yelled, as he felt his ears begin to run hot and pop from the rise in his blood pressure.

Frantically, the boy dropped to the ground once more, hands shaking and trembling with disbelief and horror as he began tearing open parchments and unraveling letter after letter...he began tirelessly scanning one, trying his damndest to make out the aged handwriting…

And then, he found what he was looking for.

He dropped the letter, his chest heaving in adrenaline and agony as a cruel recognition began to seep into the poor bastard's mind…he closed his eyes for fear they'd spill a dam that he had long since boarded up many years ago. But he heard the dam creaking and the looming thunder of wild water that beckoned at its door. And suddenly, the dam crashed as the words he read rang hot and ablaze in his ailing mind…

" _Love always, your dear Ellie of Dorne"_


	9. Chapter 9

Eliesse's breaths escaped her flushed face and parted lips in exasperated wisps. Tiny sweat beads trickled down her forehead as she blinked away her body's dew in haste and euphoric delight.

She glanced up at Robb who brooded above her with a sly smile on his devilish lips. "Had enough?" The young wolf muttered lowly, reminiscent of her frantic rhythm and seeming inability to keep up with his fast, _aggressive_ pace.

"I could never get enough…" she suddenly breathed, her breath returning to her for a brief moment before it departed once more "...but I will yield" she huffed.

The young man and lady were sparring.

And Robb had bested the girl...at least he _believed_ he had. Truth would be, Eliesse had let the young Lord win, for she knew eyes followed the pair tirelessly, and those grey orbs belonged to Lord Eddard Stark who had stumbled upon the pair training with Ser Rodrik, who looked on at the two, just as near.

"Good on you lad...and it only took you five years" Ser Rodrik Cassel boomed, patting Robb roughly on his back. He smiled a toothy, rotted smile and glanced up at the balcony where Lord Stark had been observing from. Robb followed his eyes and greeted his father with a shimmering smile.

"Father, what brings you to the training grounds?" Robb called up to his father. He turned to Eliesse quickly and pulled her from the ground. She smiled small in thanks and turned swiftly from the Warden's curious stare that seemed to become more pressing as the days burned on.

"I've no Lord's business, son...I merely heard the banter of swords and wanted to look in on you boy...your shield arm, Robb. Keep it up or—

"Or they'll ring my head...I know, father. I will do better" Robb smiled small, his gesture returned adoringly by his father.

Eliesse watched in silence, wondering for a moment if Lord Stark ever treated Jon Snow with the same fatherly regard. The notion unsettled her for a moment and bore quiet sadness into her heart. She knew Eddard Stark was a fair man, and no doubt treated Jon with love and kindness as he had with his other trueborn children. Yet, Eliesse couldn't help but feel there was something missing...a smile that could've been bigger, a touch that might've been more gentler, had it been someone else that the great Lord took for his wife instead of Catelyn Tully.

Yes, she was the sensor on Lord Stark's heart. _Cruel_ , really...and though Eliesse could scarcely understand where her scorn and anger hailed from, it didn't quite solidify her cold nature towards the bastard wolf.

The lioness watched as the great wolf walked slowly down the castle's rickety stairs, his dark furs bellowing silently behind him. He approached the training pair, glancing softly between the young woman and his son. "Robb, perhaps you'd be of help to Ser Rodrik by gathering the rest of the dummies and bringing them inside. I wish to have a word with our lovely friend and proud tiger" Ned flashed the Dornish girl a kind smile to which she returned. Robb nodded and began picking swords up from the training grounds, disappearing before the girl could protest his dismissal.

Silence engulfed Eliesse and Lord Stark, as she stared down at her feet, unsure what to say in the suddenly awkward and cold moment. Lord Stark cleared his throat abruptly, turning to the shy girl. "How has Winterfell been to you, my Lady?" His withered and grey eyes loomed over Eliesse curiously, though they did not linger. Eliesse shrugged honestly, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. It was not that Lord Stark made the girl _uncomfortable,_ it was just _unlike_ him to call upon her or _anyone_ for that matter.

Especially alone.

"Winterfell has always been kind, my Lord. I fancy it very much. It gives my skin a rest from a sweltering southern sun. The heat is not always so good for young skin...at least, that's what my handmaiden says…" Eliesse shon the Lord a classic, cheeky smile that had gained the lioness adequate fame. He smiled in return, glancing up to the evergrey, northern skies.

"Aye...as I've heard, too...So, you like it here, girl?" He glanced back at Eliesse who had been pondering the great Lord's face whilst he brooded the strange skies. She met his eyes in curiosity, glancing around him to the vast Winterfell yard. Lord Stark was a busy man...the Royal Guard was upon his castle and more than that, _The King_ , his dear friend and brother...what ailed the honorable man's mind that he sought her out so? And to ask nothings of her _comfort_ in his castle?

"I do, my Lord. I suppose I have grown to appreciate it's wonder and beauty. I will not deny you the truth...I did not _always_ enjoy it. The first time many years ago when I rode north with Lord Arryn...I hated it. I hate this cold...I hated the accents, too…" She chuckled honestly, earning a rare toothy smile from the kind Lord. "...But it has grown on me. It is no Dorne...I don't believe any land in Westeros will or could ever fill the void Dorne has left in my wild heart...but Winterfell is more of a home to me than any kingdom I've rested in...It has kind people and kind faces...face I've learned to love" The young woman hugged her furs closer to her frame at the mention of _love_.

It was not true.

Love was the flame of a timid candle that burned bright in her affection for Winterfell...The wick belonging to a bastard boy that she loved relentlessly, even despite their turbulent last encounter days before. Her hand tingled quietly at her side as though she could still feel the sting of her slap upon the bastard's face in the honorable Godswood. And though the boy's eyes evaded the Dornish woman in the days that had followed, she thought she could still feel vaguely feel the chill of a brooding, grey stare.

"I am happy to hear that Winterfell has earned a place in your heart...and while I can never assure it will amount to the tender touch of Dorne in your soul...it will always be kind...and it's people ever good to you in all your days, my Lady" Ned Stark gently took the young woman's hand and pressed a familiar, honorable kiss to it. "I'll leave you to your business, kind girl. Perhaps you'll allow Robb to escort you once more to the feast, this night?"

"It would be my honor, my Lord" Eliesse bowed respectively as Lord Stark smiled and dissipated back to the large castle. She watched quietly until she was sure she was no longer in his lingering sight or just below his ear. Quickly, she turned back towards the end of the castle that housed her; a quiet tower, overlooking the vast courtyard.

The Dornish woman walked with a prideful bite to her step as she passed many faces in the cold yard. Since the Guard's arrival to Winterfell, whispers trailed the woman around every corner of the eerie castle. Many questioned her presence in the castle...other's remarked her beauty and grace upon the sparring grounds…The north was not fond of southerns...let alone proud _lions_. Her Lannister name dripped maliciously from northern tongues as many men and women slit their eyes in her presence. While they ogled the girl's strange, olive beauty...most resented her presence within the castle walls.

Eliesse never let the fact spare too long in her proud mind; no, the Dornish woman did not care. For the men and women who whispered her name from loathing lips never mirrored her courage or pride, or would _dare_ speak ill to her face. No, they would all smile largely when she prodded by, beckoning her forward and washing the girl with compliments that were truly sincere, though came from bitter places. And the few who _did_ speak to the girl, fell in love with her almost instantly. From her Dornish drawl, to ever clever wit...she was quickly becoming favorable in the cold lands.

However, some contested and opposed her _very_ public friendship with the Prince of Winterfell.

Robb and Lady Eliesse always appeared to be quite cosy with one another. Robb was always gleaming and admiring the golden beauty, while Eliesse batted her eyelashes bashfully at the lad. Sometimes she wondered herself, if she had fallen for her own _seducing,_ Dornish ways and her flirtation was more true, than reaction seeking. Yes, it would seem Eliesse played upon the young wolf's adoration for her simply because she knew it elicited anger in another.

Jon.

Though he honored the lioness' demands to leave her be, his eyes still followed her whenever she was not looking and where she'd go. He pretended to be unaware of her playful banter with his brother...he even turned away from the pair when she'd fake swoon at him during sparring or if the older lads rode outside Winterfell's gates.

But he was always aware. _More than he wanted to be, too._

Jon's stormy gaze followed Eliesse around every corner whenever he was near. He'd watch her smile, laugh, jest with his siblings and Winterfell guards...but never with him. No, the Dornish girl evaded his gaze and presence every chance she could. Whenever her gold eyes would lift and find his own, they'd suddenly run hot and hard.

 _She'd turn away from him angrily, unregarding._

Still, he'd watch her. Even though she truly believed the bastard had cast her away like plague...he didn't. He never had. _He found his letters too, among her own._ No, the bastard boy had never abandoned her like she believed true in her heart.

 _He never had, and she'd never know._

Though the truth bubbled in him and threatened to rip from his chest every day that she would scowl at him, he never spoke or let slip the heart wrenching truth. He could not bring himself to confess...for he knew what _he_ was and who is _she_ were, too. And _that_ fact alone drove the boy far away for fear of what it's fruit would bare.

A bastard and a highborn Lady?

 _Never._

 **Death** before **dishonor**.

And he knew Catelyn Stark would see to it, too.

So instead, the bastard boy would watch painfully from quiet corners and smile to himself at her bashful comments and Dornish witt...he'd reminisce her touch, her lips...her _love_ , and imagine it were he she would hold onto, and not Robb, his beloved brother who despite it all...he could not find it in himself to hate.

Robb was innocent and unaware. He had no inkling of his bastard brother's withheld love and adoration for Eliesse, for if he did, he would surely cease all courtship of the girl. Jon had always been dealt _so little_ in his short life. Truly, he could _never_ take love away, too. Secretly, Robb hoped that Eliesse's snide comments and jests at Jon's expense about the kitchen wench _Jemma_ were true.

" _He loves her, you know. That kitchen wench, Jemma. Jon and Jemma, sitting in a tree...married with bastards, happy as can be"_ She'd mock, her eyes losing all remnants of its usual laughter and banter. _It was as though she truly meant her disdain for the bastard._ Jon would shake his head, silent to the girl's words and speaking no ill to her. And Eliesse would grow angry, eyes hard and relentless on her target as though it was Jon's words she wished her cruelty would draw forth. Whenever she mentioned the two, Jon, or Jemma, she would hit her bullseye every time.

Jon remained quiet, and _honorable_. He knew he wouldn't have to stomach the heart-wrenching sights of Robb and Eliesse, or her cruelty much longer...even though the boy never faulted her, regardless.

Jon knew he was going to be riding to Castle Black with his Uncle Benjen Stark soon to take the black and swear an oath to defend the northern wall.

He would take no wives.

Hold no lands.

Father no children.

Wear no crowns or win any glory.

He would live and die at his post…

... _with the memory of a southern girl being the only thing to warm him in his long night._

It would seem he had already begun practicing for his lonely life at the wall...late at night, with a dim wick burning tirelessly, he'd lay awake in his chambers, reading endless scrawl dealt of delicate fingers. Some nights, he'd smile...chuckle in quiet darkness at peculiar words misspelled with Dornish tongue and sarcasm that seemed to come alive in the ink...and some nights he'd find himself teary eyed in despair from pain stricken words that seemed to glow red in the still night. Jon fought to not devour all the letters in a single night. He promised himself he would keep them all, and read one letter a week during his days at the wall. He imagined Eliesse's childish words basking him in comfort during his long watch...even if it would pain him so in the process.

 _Anything to pretend she was near. Anything to pretend it was her delicate voice above the quiet winds that whispered to his ear._

He found himself one night reading a letter from the girl in which she recalled their time in the hot springs before he left. She penned him her desire... _urgency_...she described the sensation his touch had brought her and how just the mere thought made her loins run hot and damp at her newly glowing femininity. The letter had left the boy writhing in his bed, his own sensuality attentive and hard. He fought desire and honor, and imagined for a swift moment leaping from his bed and finding the girl across the courtyard in her chambers. The thought of ripping her surely naked body from warm sheets and taking her against the cold, stone walls of her room and upon the creaking chamber floors nearly imploded the bastard. The wolf in him howled loud and longingly, enticing the boy to follow his primal instinct. But, Jon knew honor...no matter how much he _needed_ to find her and crush his cold lips to hers steaming ones once more, and bury himself within the warm, moist swells of her womanhood...he knew he could not.

It wasn't _decent._ And the thought was unbecoming of a growing man, _a Stark,_ at that too. It startled him to realize the idea had came from his own fevered mind. But he was still a _boy,_ for all purposes without and a _bastard_ , for all rights known. So he allowed the lustful thoughts to venture into his mind and torture the boy at his bed.

And when the thoughts had nearly drove the bastard mad, he relieved himself with the overwhelming thought of Eliesse and her newly becoming woman's shape being his only assistance. _He didn't need much more than that, anyhow._ The thought was harmless, and his fantasy sustaining him for the moment.

Though he wanted to rip the girl from her Dornish silks whenever she were present, he knew he could never. No, not even if the girl begged him and swore to never spew hatred of his name again…

 _He could never risk putting a bastard in her belly._

The one thing in this world that troubled the wolf more than Eliesse's dismissal of his existence, was the notion of what their love could bring. He _never_ wanted to damn another innocent babe to a cruel life of constantly being regarded as worthless and diminutive. He would rather _die_ and watch Robb wed Eliesse a hundred times over...at least he knew _then,_ that she'd be loved, protected, and never looked upon as lesser than the great woman she truly was, or her children be ridiculed as _mutts_.

So Jon vowed to stay away.

He promised himself he would do the girl no injustice...for showing her the letters would only strike pain and anguish into her heart, unfairly so. _Why would he awaken a love he could not tame?_ The boy's mind was made up and his promise to his Uncle spent true. He would be leaving Winterfell once and for all, taking with him a rugged, red silken ribbon and memory of blazing gold pools. He was sure that was all he needed to warm him at night, for _the rest_ of his nights, during his long watch.

Eliesse opened her chamber doors quietly, peering doubtfully into the silent room before her. "Thara?" She called curiously, swaying into the room when her call was unanswered.

Eliesse walked briskly to her bed, her fingers working quickly to withdraw her dress that was slick with sweat from sparring. She watched herself curiously in the mirror as her dress slid effortlessly from full breasts and hung loose at her newly sculpted hips. She stared at the woman within the mirror, pondering when she blossomed forth from the young Viperess of Dorne. A slender finger tucked a defiant gold lock behind her ear as she scrutinized her eyes that seemed _too_ hard for a woman who was merely ten and seven...her lips, full and plump with viper's venom, no doubt...held thoughts at bay for fear of what they'd say outside her teeth. She could scarcely recall what she looked like, once baked in a Dorne sun many years ago. Her grandfather protested the Dornish tradition of short hair for a lady... _a warrior_ , and had let the girl's tresses run long and wild to her curving waist. _The capital way._ Eliesse captured a curl between her newly puckered and bruised fingers, running slowly along its length. For a defiant moment, she imagined cutting the curl to her shoulder in attempt to recognize the woman, once a foreign girl, who stood brooding at her.

A muffled shuffle broke the woman's pondering silence.

Eliesse turned sharply, draping her dress back upon her shoulders. She stared intently to her bathing chambers where she was sure the noise had come from. Silently, her gold eyes flickered to the small dagger upon her bed as she quietly, with a warriors grace, crept and retrieved it. She flipped it skillfully within her hand, the blade's delicate but precise point ahead of her sleuth fingers, as she crept quietly to the chamber. "Reveal yourself...I know you're in there" she warned, her feet moving slow and calculated towards the cold door.

The floor creaked beyond the old, wooden door. Eliesse's mouth ran dry, and her eyes grew narrow. All her senses became electric, she could feel her blood rushing behind alert ears. Her fingers trembled with anticipation...the viper in her flickered predatorily as she awaited her moment to strike.

 _A loud crash._

The bath chamber doors flew open in a sudden haste, Eliesse's eyes barely had a moment to register the figure that whisked gingerly from behind the old door. The dark, hooded figure made a dash for the doors of the room, a sparing effort to evade the awaiting viper.

Eliesse grit her teeth, her fist clenching the suddenly hot metal that resides within her hand. Without another moment to pass, Eliesse withdrew her arm, and with a powerful whip, she thrust the knife towards the fleeing figure.

A loud clank of the knife bit the suddenly tense moment wide.

The hooded figure was stuck. Eliesse had pinned the person by the tail of their cloak against the stone wall.

A woman yelped, as she fell against the wall, her momentum halted by the knife that held her cloak prisoner. " _Please! Don't kill me!"_

Eliesse clenched her fist, her teeth nearly shredding her lip from the aggressive clench of the woman's jaw. She stalked forward ominously, grabbing the hood of the woman. Without a moment spent, she ripped the hood back revealing frightened, brown eyes and trembling, pale lips.

 _Jemma?_

Eliesse felt her heart run hot and sharp as she grabbed the girl by the front of her cloak and lifted her from the scuffed, old floors. "You are brave, girl" Eliesse seethed, her voice coming into a snarl. Jemma stared up at the vicious lioness, her voice stripped and trembling at her throat. She could not find the courage to speak. She had heard rumors of this Lannister girl's icy heart and ruthlessness and was suddenly very much aware that she now resided in its path. "Speak or I'll cut your tongue from your head since you've no use for it, it would seem".

" _M-my Lady, please...I was just cleaning...I—_

"Cleaning, you say?" Eliesse's eyes flickered to the kitchen wench's hand that was clenched until it was ripe and white at her meek side. Eliesse grabbed the straining hand, twisting it menacingly. Her face calmed in satisfaction at the sharp yelp that escaped the girl. "Perhaps _stealing_ , is what you meant. Open your hand or I'll chop it off and open it myself".

Jemma cried out in agony as Eliesse twisted her hand once more when no word came forth from the thieving girl and her hand had not opened. Finally, her hand drew wide as a small stamp fell forth from ill-intentioned fingers. "I'm sorry!" She suddenly bubbled, snot and tears streaming down her flushed face.

Eliesse dropped Jemma's twisted hand and bent to retrieve the small, golden stamp. She grasped the cold metal, staring at it peculiarly. Her finger brushed gently over the engraved "E.L." under a roaring lion. Her grandfather had gifted it to her upon her arrival to the westernlands, when he saw her writing a letter to her uncle in Dorne. Every highborn man and lady had one, he'd say. _So they'll know the letter is of great importance from honorable hands..._ She vaguely remembered him showing her how to seal her letters in wax and press the solid gold stamp to the hot liquid, marking her letter as authentic to her name…

 _She hated that stamp._

She wondered if it had cursed all her scrawls she'd sent for Jon Snow. She bitterly recalled that sound of the stamp hitting her old, oak desk. _Clunk, clunk, clunk..._ the blasted thing was probably used nearly a _hundred times._ Day and night...night and day...it dipped into hot wax and elicited cold return.

 _Maybe Jon doesn't know who E.L. is..._ she thought one night when her seventh letter was sent and bid no return. She remembered the next day signing the rest of the letters with her wax seal, and writing "Ellie" underneath, as well.

Still, no letter returned.

Eliesse stared bewildered at Jemma. "A stamp? You've broken into my chambers to steal a bloody stamp? You are daft, girl. What were you planning on doing? Selling the gold piece? For what?" Eliesse snarled at Jemma, her eyes sharp and threatening like a lion circling its prey.

Jemma stood suddenly, her eyes down and untelling. "N-no, m'lady...I—

"Of course you were going to sell it. Did you hope for enough gold to survive you beyond Winterfell's walls? Is that it? You and Jon planning to run away? Need a few coins for the long, King's Road ahead? You could've asked. I would _love_ to send you and the bastard off, well. You would be doing me a favor, taking that _stupid_ boy. And a Lannister _always_ repays their debts" Eliesse hadn't realized her eyes had welded moisture at their seams. Her fist were clenched at her side, her brows furrowed in pain as the thought of Jon running away with another like he'd vowed to with her bled angrily into her wounded mind.

Jemma stared at the girl, her mouth agape, as her trembling suddenly ceased. "I love him" she suddenly breathed, her strength coming to her. "And he loves me. I know he does". She took a small step towards Eliesse, who stared back in twisted resentment. Jemma's eyes were unblinking, it was as though the woman were possessed by her thoughts and her words taking form from her troubled mind.

"Perhaps he does. But he didn't the other night" Eliesse spoke gently, staring into Jemma's suddenly ramped eyes. She searched the lioness' eyes for truth, but Eliesse would not bend from her place in the room. Eliesse thought for a moment she heard the girl stifle a cry, or muffle a sure gasp. But Jemma did not speak. She glanced sideways at the chamber doors and back to the brooding lioness once more.

"Will you have me hung?"

"No. I won't" Eliesse spoke quickly, placing the stamp down on her bed. She fingered once more the strange, chilled metal, her mind reminiscing a scratch of quill on soft parchment. It rang _mockingly_ in her scorned mind.

Jemma turned suddenly away from the young woman, grasping the chamber doors between her pale fingers.

Suddenly, she felt her skull run hot and sharp as rough fingers grasped her hair at its root. She felt her core spin as her scrawny back flew once more against the cold stone wall. Her gaze was met with familiar golden ones, once more. "If you enter my chambers again without my permission... _ever,_ I will skin you, flesh to bone and wear it like one of my _pretty,_ Dorne dresses for your beloved _Jon_ _Snow_ while I fuck him _in it"._

Jemma stared wide eyed at the suddenly vicious lioness. She vibrated in fear as she waited for the great lion to release its paw from her skull. When she had, Jemma fleed from the chamber, stumbling out the creaking door.

Eliesse remained, her heart a flurry of pain and anger once more as she stared at the golden stamp before her. She bit her lip, picking it up and pressing it to her suddenly trembling lip.

She closed her eyes finally, as a single tear rolled down her warm cheek.

—

Winterfell's feasting hall was a bustle once more of celebration as word spread quickly of great, Ned Stark accepting King Robert's request of Hand of the King.

Eliesse watched quietly from her seat at the Lannister table alongside her father, uncle Jaime and the rest of the Kingsguard. "Fool," Tyrion muttered as he poured his chalice ripe with wine. "He does not know how much he will age under Robert's _fat arse_ ". Eliesse turned amusingly to her drunk father who was eyeing the castle whores lustfully. Jaime shook his head in disapproval, though allowed a shimmer of banter to grace his handsome face.

"Now, now, _brother_...the news shocks us all. I thought the old wolf would decline...pitty" Jaime sipped his wine, watching curiously as Robert and Eddard spoke amongst themselves. He did not like this. Not one bit...the wolf in Robert's ear could pose concern for him and his _family._ Nonetheless, the King Slayer lay silent. He would not speak ill in front of those who would question its origin.

"Yes, well, I'm sure _many_ were hopeful of his _honorable_ refusal. I love a good plot...and the plot thickens. Cheers, sweet daughter. I notice your glass is half empty...pessimistic?" Tyrion's stare washed the girl curiously, as her gaze held upon Lord Stark and the King. She wondered what Robert has said to convince the Warden to leave his honorable post and family. So much responsibility...to entrust to Lady Stark? No, of course not. Robb was now heir to Winterfell. And it would seem his time for reign had come prematurely…she wondered if that were a good thing or not.

"A glass, good woman" Eliesse called to a passing serving girl. The woman curtsied quickly, pouring a slick glass from a flagon. "Many thanks" Eliesse whispered as she sipped the Dorne berry quietly, her gaze never withering.

"You are quiet, my daughter. What troubles you? Perhaps the news of Ned Stark's bastard" Tyrion Lannister sipped his wine slowly, observing Eliesse's suddenly rigid figure.

 _She would give no hint to the sudden clench of her heart and bitterness upon her tongue._

"What news? He is to be wed?" Eliesse sat back in her chair, trying her damndest to not allow her voice to tremble or crack under suddenly painful pressure.

Jaime laughed wholeheartedly, turning to his sweet niece. " _Wed?_ Who would wed that bastard? And what name would he give? _Snow? Lord and Lady Snow_?" He chuckled once more and stood from the wooden table. "You amuse me, niece. But I am a man of duty and it would seem our King is bidding me forward. We will speak in the morn" without another word spared, Jaime departed the suddenly cold table, and made his way to the King and Queen who bid his service.

"I think what your dear uncle meant to say, was that the bastard has announced that he will be pledging himself to the Black" Tyrion spoke, taking a bite out of his chicken. He would not give notice, but he watched his daughter curiously.

 _He had noticed her uncomfortable shifts whenever Jon Snow was mentioned these past days._

"The _Black?_ " Eliesse questioned genuinely, leaning forward to her drunken father. He stunk of wine and strange perfume but she threw the fact to the back of her mind.

 _She needed to know._

 _Especially if it regarded the bastard._

"He has vowed to follow his uncle Benjen Stark north of Winterfell to the Great Wall. He wishes to take the Black and become a man of the Night's Watch...the sworn brotherhood of Castle Black who defends the northern wall from things that _go bump in the night_...It is an honorable choice. He will be pledging his life to duty, no love, no children...quite frankly the boy _must_ be a virgin because I don't understand how _any_ man or boy who has known the feel of a _cunt_ could ever— Eliesse, where are you going?"

Tyrion watched as his daughter had slipped from her seat at the table and disappeared into the crowd of drunken men and women. He stood from his seat, knowing it would serve no assistance in searching for his suddenly daft daughter. He chuckled internally at the observation and sat once more, throwing back the last of his chalice.

Eliesse pushed through the steam and stench of drunken men and soldiers. Some grabbed at the girl, and some threw snide comments her way.

 _Where you off to in a hurry, girl?_

 _Come here, now pretty…_

 _Oi, what an arse on you…_

Eliesse felt the grasp of hard hands at her bottom as she spun quickly and shoved a pepper-haired man from her path. "If you _ever—_ she began, her face flushing in unfamiliar embarrassment.

"That's enough. Touch her again and you'll lose your hand" A familiar voice spoke from behind her. Eliesse turned swiftly, her heart knowing the man in which the voice came from.

 _Jon._

"Lady Eliesse, I can escort you back to your—

"Why? Why the Night's Watch?" She suddenly spat, her eyes narrowed in a tell-tale pain that the bastard was ashamed to know so well.

It was as though the entire room had begun to spin slow...men, women and children alike whisked past the lioness it what seemed like never ending halted movement.

Jon stared at the girl, shocked. He wondered for a silent moment if she'd ended up at this _harsh_ end of the feasting hall purposely...perhaps in search of him.

 _No, never._ He thought. _I'm not a thought in her mind._

"Because there is great honor in being a man of the Night's Watch. And it's the highest honor that a _bastard_ can acclaim. I have vowed to my uncle—

"What of the vows you made to me?" Eliesse suddenly spoke, taking a daunting step to the unsuspecting lad. Her gold eyes tirelessly searched his grey ones. They searched _relentlessly_ for a love that had never been answered...for a glimmer of _hope_ that maybe...just _maybe,_ Jon _did_ love her and not Jemma...and perhaps if he even respected her a morsel...he wouldn't do this. _He wouldn't damn himself to a life of solitude._

 _ **A life without her.**_

"Eliesse, I have never thwarted my vows to you... _never._ I meant them all. In the hot spring, I meant—

"Yet you never answered one letter... _not one! Why Jon?_ Was Jemma really that grand? I deserve to know, Jon. You owe me _this_ at the very least. For years you held my heart...my _joy_ captive in frosted lands. _Please_. Set me free, Jon Snow. If it's not my love that you sought, _just tell me the truth…_ I want the pain to stop" Eliesse choked out suddenly, her voice grief stricken and above a whisper for the bastard's ears only. Her lip lay lifeless between her teeth as she fought its tremble. She knew if she freed the plump flesh that I would cry out in agony at the thought of the bastard boy.

Jon stared at the girl, his heart seething in a fury of anguish and despair. Eliesse... _the Proud Lioness of Casterly Rock...the Tiger...the Viperess…_

 _..._ _ **was crumbling before his eyes**_ _._

She loved him.

And he loved her.

"Eliesse, _there was never anyone else..._ I swear it, before the old Gods and new...I swear—

" _ **Stop it!**_ " Eliesse suddenly yelled, her voice striking down the laughter and joy around her. Soldiers and drunken fools watched the girl curiously as she heaved hot, scornful tears down her olive face. "You lie. You lied then, and you lie now!" Eliesse spun around, darting for the feasting halls doors. She thrust them open bitterly, taking no notice to the northern chill that nipped at her exposed breast.

She ran as fast as her legs that were entrapped in Dornish silk would take her, to the only place that elicited sure peace.

 _The Godswood._

Frost and light dew crunched beneath her shoes as she angrily kicked them away to escape the noise they made. The sting of sheer chill bit at the bottoms of her feet as she trudged on, tears cooling and running dry upon her olive flesh.

Her anger bubbled at the pit of her stomach as she battled logic and sense. A part of her wanted to storm back into Winterfell's honorable halls and find the little _bitch_ Jemma...and slit her _thieving_ throat...perhaps she'd bathe in the girl's blood before Jon Snow to gain some truth from his lips.

But she knew her anger and tormented fantasies would serve no justice or repair no wounds... _this_ type of pain would only go away with time...at least, that's what Thara had spoke to her.

Eliesse stepped before the familiar weirwood tree that's face seemed both welcoming and loathing of the lioness. She stared back at the ominous tree, observing the sap at its anguished eyes...it looked fresh, yet crystallized in time.

Without a word, she dropped to her knees...her hands folded underneath her chin as she attempted to remember _any_ words she could remember the bastard saying before her many years ago. "Please, if there is any God listening…"

"Eliesse"

Eliesse turned suddenly, meeting Jon's stormy gaze. She wasn't surprised. _She knew he'd likely follow her after her embarrassing outburst._

"I don't want your words. I don't want your _comfort_. Go console your wench, Jemma" Eliesse spat, standing before the proud weir tree. She dusted off her suddenly wet dress as she fought to remain calm within the bastard's presence.

 _She didn't want him to know the mess his presence drew of her._

"Again with Jemma...what will it take for you to see I do not want the girl?" Jon remarked angrily, approaching the ailing lioness. Eliesse rolled her eyes at Jon's martyrdom. She turned away from his cold glare, glancing once more at the weir tree.

"She broke into my chambers today...to steal a stamp. _A fucking stamp, Snow"_ Eliesse turned suddenly to the boy, rising and walking slowly to his figure that was lit dimly in the watchful moonlight. "I almost killed her. I imagined for a moment, _thrusting_ my blade into the tender flesh of her pale throat and dragging out her _lying voice and tendrils..._ don't you see? Don't you see _the madness you've besieged upon me?"_ Eliesse stepped hastily to the boy, so close their noses nearly touched.

Jon stared at Eliesse, sadness brimming at his mind and heart. "I don't love her. It's not true, what you say. I'm sorry she broke into your chambers...I'm sorry…" Jon stammered, his eyes basking over the trembling girl. His voice would not tread on. No, _honor_ held his octave captive and would go no further, for fear of what it would do to the lioness.

Though, he wanted to tell her.

 _He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs that she was_ _ **wrong.**_

They both were.

"Just stop. You're pitiful. I guess...this is goodbye, _forever._ You are to be a man of the Night's Watch" Eliesse suddenly whispered, her voice running wild with the suddenly biteful northern wind.

The pair stood silently as a strange chill ruffled the canopy of the eerie Godswood.

Jon averted his gaze down, unsure of how to meet the lioness' watchful glare or what to say in her suddenly painful presence. When his eyes did not meet her own, Eliesse bit her lip tiredly and shook her proud head. "Good luck, Lord Snow...May we meet again" without a second glance, the woman turned and began leading towards the familiar undergrowth of the strange woods.

Jon watched quietly, his heart thundering in his chest.

 _Eliesse._

 _His sweet, sweet Ellie._

His mind battled his heart that bled honor and true...he wanted to tell her. He wanted to _beg_ her to stay, and hold him a while. For their love was _unfairly_ dealt.

 _He read her letters._

Jon pondered painfully for a moment that Eliesse would leave the north once and for all…and never know that _he did_ love her.

That he _did_ write her.

And someone had worked _tirelessly_ these last five years to make sure no word would exchange between the two star-crossed lovers.

He watched as her olive frame had almost been swallowed whole by the quiet Godswood. And he knew…

... _that if he let her go...she would truly be gone_ _ **forever.**_

"Eliesse! Stop! Listen to me…" He clenched his fist at his side, his heart thundering once more against his ribs as honor and logic battled within his mind. He wanted to tell her... _he needed to._ Hell, if he was _truly_ leaving...she deserved to know.

 _And he deserved to speak._

Eliesse turned suddenly, glaring at Jon once more. "I'm done listening. You're a damn fool, Jon Snow. And I won't chase you anymore. I won't lay awake _bewitched_ by the thought of you. I won't—

"You wrote me...from the balcony of the Red Keep. You had run off from your father and Tywin Lannister. They kept on you about wearing your hair down and not up...you tried to cut your hair and your grandfather told you that only lesbians had short hair and you were a capital girl now and suitors would be in search of you. So you cut it anyways and took too much from one side…"

Eliesse stared at Jon, her heart _lurching_ to a halt at the boy's words.

No…

 _ **...her words**_ _._

Jon took a daring step towards the girl, his hand suddenly arising in a meek tremble at his side. "You said you felt like a boy. And you were scared it wouldn't grow back. _That I wouldn't have anything to grab._ You nicked your ear that day, too...with the shears...it bled and scarred. Now you have a crescent moon on your ear. You said it was fate and a place for my inner wolf to howl…at your ear...so you could listen to my voice when I was inside you...because you wanted me to be there...every day..." Jon reached the suddenly quiet Dorne woman. She stared at him, her eyes wide and full of intent he couldn't perceive. The wind whisked between their bodies, barely escaping the suddenly hot ambiance their figures drew.

"You got my letter. And yet, you never wrote me back. Was this supposed to _heal_ me, boy? Your little _revelation..._ was it suppose to make me _forgive you?"_ Eliesse suddenly spoke, searching Jon's eyes of recognition. Jon stared back, never dropping her gaze. "You got my letter. But you never…"

"I _didn't!_ I never got _any_ letter from you except one…" Jon shouted painfully. He stared at Eliesse who's tears had finally escaped her golden eyes and fallen in sorrowful streams at her cheeks. "...you asked me to stop writing you...you said...that _a lady does not answer the call of a bastard_ …so...I stopped. _Moons later,_ I finally stopped writing you" Jon whispered, his own pain suddenly bubbling to the surface in the quiet Godswood.

Eliesse stared at Jon in shock and bewilderment once more. " _I would never—_

"I know... _I know, now..._ I found the letters. Yours and _mine..._ under this god forsaken tree. Ghost dug them up the other day...they were in a strange, wooden box. _Someone was keeping them…"_ Jon whispered quietly, his raised hand suddenly gaining momentum once more. He brushed Eliesse's hair from her damp eyes as she stared at him in absolute deafness. "I'm sorry, Eliesse…I should've known, I should've... _I should've figured it out..._ I should've known what we had...that you...that I—

"Stop. Stop talking, bastard" Eliesse suddenly spoke, grabbing the wolf by his furs. "Just... _stop"_ She stared at Jon, her eyes hot and wild in emotion she hadn't felt in _so long._

"Eliesse…"

" _Stop it…_ " She whispered, grabbing him rougher at his nape. Jon stared into Eliesse's eyes, feeling a strange heat climb his suddenly hot frame. His eyes washed across her own dangerously...they feuded for a mere moment, searching one another for a word neither would dare bring forth.

"I _can't._ I wish I could. I wish I could _leave you be,_ woman…but you...you are a _devil_ at my shoulder...in my ear...I wish I could _rid_ myself of the torture your sight becomes of me...but I can't. _I won't._ I'd damn myself to a life of solitude if it meant you'd be _safe..._ Ellie, I—

Eliesse suddenly pressed her lips to the bastard's cold ones, relieving herself of the tension that had brewed within her chest. Her hands went relentlessly for the back of his head as she tangled her trembling fingers at their root. Jon sighed deeply into her embrace, allowing her to spill her sadness into him. She slowly pulled away, her lips lingering just above the warmth of his own. "I _hate_ you…" she whispered, her quivering mouth grazing his own warm one.

"I know" he muttered, pressing his lips against her own once more.

Logic.

 _Honor_.

All the notions of why Jon and Eliesse shouldn't or could _not_ be, swarmed their suddenly sweltering frames. Eliesse grasped desperately at Jon's furs, attempting to pull the bastard deeper into her body from where he already stood. Jon did not protest her touch, though his mind whispered warnings for him to cease. "Eliesse, we should stop, if someone were to see us…" Jon whispered against the lioness' lips as she defiantly moved against him in protest.

"I won't. We won't...Jon, _please..._ I need _you…"_ Eliesse whispered against the flesh of his bare neck. Jon felt himself become aroused at Eliesse's touch and fevered breaths at his ear. His sweet, Ellie… _was begging for him._

He wanted to fulfill her wishes and _his_ desires.

He hesitated, feeling Eliesse's hand run across his heaving chest and attempt to untie his tunic. He knew what she wanted... _but he was afraid to give in to her._

What if he put a bastard in her belly? He couldn't _bare_ the thought...Innocent, _fierce Ellie..._ never attesting the honor she deserved...for _his_ sins. "Ellie, we can't" Jon suddenly said, feeling the girl's hand creep across his exposed chest. "I could put a bastard in your belly...I don't _ever_ want to bring another forsaken babe into this world...I could never forgive myself if I did that to you…" Jon grabbed the fevered lioness' hand, forcing her to meet his stormy gaze in the still night.

Eliesse stared at Jon, her eyes soft for the lad in what seemed like eternity. "What of it? Am I not yours? Did you not mean your vows to me many years ago before this sacred tree, Snow?" Eliesse whispered, pressing herself closer to the bastard boy. She was so close, Jon thought he'd explode outside his senses and rip her from her barely concealed silks…

"You know I did, Ellie...but I am a man to be of the Night's Watch...I made a promise to my uncle. This is _indecent_ for a man who is to take the Black...for a bastard, upon his high Lady..."

"Break it. Break the vows. _Fuck_ honor..." Eliesse suddenly said, grabbing the boy's face between her suddenly trembling hands. "...you promised me a life...with you, and me...that we'd run away. To Dorne...or Essos...anywhere, as long as I was at your side. Do not break that vow to me, Jon Snow...if you love me, _keep it._ We will leave, we will run and never turn back. We will marry under the sun...you will put many wolf pups in my belly...and we will _live_...together... _forev—_

Jon grabbed Eliesse and pushed her against the watchful weir tree that had grown wide eyed at the pair before it. He thrust his trembling, hot hand to the back of her neck, deepening his kiss upon her lips.

 _He needed her._

 _And she, him._

He remembered his vows. Truth would be, he never forgot them to her. And while every intelligent instinct in him whispered their distraught at his actions, he could not find it in himself to stop. His sweet, Eliesse was begging for him. Begging for _his love_ and for his seed to take root within her and bare fruit of his tree.

 _He would not deny her. He would not deny_ _ **himself.**_

Eliesse moaned softly as Jon's lips departed her own and bit defiantly at the tender, soft skin of her throat. He drew longing wisps with a warm tongue against her fevered flesh, eliciting a sharp exhale from her plump lips.

 _The sound was more delicious than any fantasy he could've conjured._

He met her lips once more in urgency as Eliesse tugged relentlessly at his furs and tunic. "Silly wolf, let me in…" she whispered lustfully into the bastard's ear. Jon growled in response to her silver, _Dornish_ tongue, the wolf deep within emerging once more in her presence.

Eliesse yelped as Jon reach between them, and thrust her bodice open suddenly, exposing glowing, olive flesh under the chilling, moonlight. He wasted no time tasting her sweltering flesh and sucking relentlessly at the skin of her chest. Eliesse moaned in responses, taking a fistful of the bastard's hair between her shaking fingers. The sensation of his lips against her body drove the Dornish woman mad as she seen stars at the feel.

Jon's rough hand rose to capture a warm, round breast between his calloused palm. He squeezed gently, peering up from the girl's chest to soak in her lustful response and approval. Eliesse's eyes were closed, her lips snatched anticipatingly between her teeth as she drew harsh breaths in as quietly as she could.

Jon played at the girl, his mouth taking refuge at her breast and becoming defiant with a soft, pink nipple. Jon's senses heightened with every stolen breath and moan that trembled from Eliesse's searing frame against the weirwood tree.

Jon tugged and pulled at the girl's silks until he managed to withdraw them completely from her curving frame. He kissed her tenderly at her lips, allowing his nose to brush her own affectionately. "Tell me to continue" he whispered at her lips as he pecked them gently. Eliesse returned his gesture, peering into his grey eyes that seemed to grow wild with desire.

She was sure her own mirrored the same urgency and _need._

" _Please_...don't stop" Eliesse whispered, kissing the bastard once more.

Jon wasted another breath no more as he began to untie his own dressings. Eliesse helped him quickly, their hands fumbling with eagerness and excitement they knew nothing of. She began kissing and nipped at his bare chest once he'd freed it from his furs and tunic. Her hands assisted his own as he undid his pants and pulled them from his legs, along with his under cloths.

Jon gasped, feeling the Dornish girl take hold of his manhood, swiftly. He met her eyes in shock and excitement as she stared back, her own mirroring the same emotion, unsure of what she meant to do with the gesture. Jon began helping her help himself as his breath began to withdraw in long exhales from his own lips. "Eliesse…" he whispered quietly into the crisp night, leaving her to ensue her torture unassisted. She found his lips, and his tongue found hers as they danced quietly into the night.

Slowly, Jon drew the girl down onto the furs he discarded upon the Godswoods grounds. He climbed upon the tingling lioness who suddenly looked wild with fear and wonder. "Are you sure?" He whispered to her, brushing her golden curls from her flushed face. Eliesse stared up at the bastard, her heart nearly exploding at a sight she'd dreamt of for so many years…

"Yes" She quickly breathed, grasping his neck once more and drawing him to her quivering lips. Jon kissed her tenderly, reaching between them suddenly. Eliesse felt a smooth, hardness run through her dripping folds. She gasped at the sensation, meeting Jon's fevered stare once more. She clenched nervously, much aware of the stories that had been told to her of lady losing her maidenhood.

She winced as she felt a slight burn and stretch at her lower region. Jon held his length between a trembling grasp as he positioned himself at her entrance and began to slowly push in. Her nails suddenly bit into Jon's flesh as she gasped at the abrupt, sharp pain. "Shh, I'll be quick" he whispered, his own voice trembling against her lips as he tried to distract her from the pain. Without another word, he thrust himself deep into the swells of her femininity before the girl could speak once more.

Eliesse cried out in the sudden, sharp pain that ensued between her legs. Jon quickly captured Eliesse's lips in another fevered kiss as he swallows her moans of agony within them. He kissed her passionately, trailing from her trembling lips, to the soft, supple skin of her neck. He remained still, not willing to move until the girl bid him her permission. He had nearly lost himself the moment he entered her, unsure of how he managed to remain still when the wolf in him howeled to bury deeper in the woman.

Eliesse finally opened her eyes, feeling the strange sting subside slightly as her walls swelled to fit the bastard's size. Jon lifted his gaze, searching Eliesse's own for any quiver of regret or worry.

 _But he did not find it._

Eliesse nodded meekly in encouragement, lifting her head once more to meet Jon's lips. He obliged, pressing himself deeper into the Dornish girl, and drawing forth a delicious moan.

 _The sound was better than any fantasy he had conjured._

His hips found a quiet pace as he moved slowly between the lioness' legs. Gently, he drew and then withdrew, watching Eliesse's face for any sign of discomfort.

 _But he never found it._

And soon, the Dornish girl had let her legs fall slack at his hips, as she invited him deeper into her swells. Jon pushed farther in, his once tender pace quickening in urgency as he listened hungrily to the sound of Eliesse's screaming thighs and breathy moans.

Eliesse sat forth slightly, drawing her lips closer to the bastard's, in order to meet each powerful thrust. "Jon… _please"_ she begged, locking her legs around the bastard. Jon groaned in response as she began to meet his thrust.

Their eyes held for a few moments, as Jon attempted to kiss her lips with every re-entry. But soon, he lost pace, his movements becoming more wild and sporadic as he felt a strange heat begin to bubble at his core. His face rested in the crook of her neck as he breathed heavily, and whispered his desires and affirmations into the woman's ear.

Eliesse had felt it too, falling back on her arms as she tossed her head back in delight of the bastard wolf's torture. Jon took refuge at her newly exposed neck and flesh, as he bit lustfully into it once more and left angry, red bruises. Eliesse moaned aloud, her mouth hanging agape as she felt the heat within her core erupt at Jon's internal and external fury. She released, her walls clenching around the bastard as he continued to pump in and out of her daringly.

She writhed and trembled under the bastard, one hand digging into his damp, dark curls and other pulling at the overgrown patches of frosted grass at her head side.

The sight of Eliesse unraveling at the bastard's doing and sensation of her walls enclosing on his throbbing manhood probed Jon's own release forward as he spilled his seed deep within the girl. He called her name quietly at her ear, as his erratic movements began to slow and finally halt.

Jon's face was buried in Eliesse's neck as he inhaled sharply and lay quick, lazy kisses at her lobe. He raised himself, meeting her eyes that were warm and wild with affection that he almost didn't recognize.

"Are you hurt?" He whispered quietly, brushing damp hair from her fevered eyes. Eliesse blushed slightly, shaking her head in response to his gentleness. Jon smiled small, staring at the girl under him with intense adoration.

 _She was his._

 _And always would be._

"Again, Jon, please…" Eliesse suddenly spoke, sitting up slightly. Jon stared into her eyes in shock and lust as her words trickled deliciously back up his spine and through his groin. "I need it. _I need you"_ she muttered, searching his eyes for approval. She reached between them, finding he had never subsided or lost his arousal. She touched him softly, encouraging him to come closer once more.

Jon stared back, unsure if she knew what she asked of the bastard…

...but he obliged nonetheless and poured himself into the girl once more, taking her many times into the night on the Godswood floor.

 _And the great, weirwood tree watched ominously of the bastard and his lady at its root._


	10. Chapter 10

Northern breath in the form of dew basked gently over flushed, still faces. Bold sun rays pushed defiantly through the thick canopy of the Godswood, announcing its morning rise and stirring Jon Snow from his comforting sleep.

Jon's face twitched in the prickling rays, as he wondered for a moment how the sun could kiss him so tenderly from his usually dark and frosted chamber window.

His eyes opened suddenly as realization settled upon his steaming body.

He was _still_ in the Godswood. The scent of lily and sweet herb washed over his face as the bastard's senses finally awoke and recalled where the elegant, sweet scent were wafting from and whom it followed so gracefully.

 _Ellie._

There, the beautiful, petite Dornish girl slumbered still and quiet in Jon's arm. Jon's eyes trailed over the beauty aweingly as his brooding glare lapped thirstingly the sight of glistening olive flesh, with a barely concealed breast poking out mischievously from under the woman's arm.

Jon watched her still face in tortured longing. How he desired to flip her once more upon her slender back and take her while the watchful sun looked on _._ Silently, Jon lifted his rough, calloused fingers and tenderly guided its length along Eliesse's damp flesh. She stirred at the touch.

"Jon…" she muttered quietly against his own bare chest. She squirmed slightly at the sensory of Jon's own body still pressed flush and hot against her, a tired moan escaping through lips swollen from the wolf's bite the night before.

Jon's eyes became hooded and dark at the sound. He scolded himself internally for the sudden filth that began to sputter into his mind, but it would not cease. He couldn't help it. Whenever the Dornish princess was near, it was as though his blood would flow hot and fast, hardening him instantly wherever he stood. His hand lifted to graze the girl's face gently, as he soaked in the supple soft skin that met his finger tips. His breath quickened at the feel of Eliesse's flesh that was warm and moist with dew from their urgent love-making the night before. Jon drew his touch from her still face and dipped it longingly beneath his heavy, wolf pelt that wrapped the two in modest warmth. His hand brushed the the woman's full breast, his fingers teasing gently at her soft, perked nipple. He earned a breathy moan, from the gesture. The moan was more than an approval for the bastard. He shifted his weight against Eliesse, preparing to slip quietly and unannounced between the Dornish woman's legs and awaken her with a swift thrust of his hip and entry by his suddenly throbbing manhood.

Eliesse opened her eyes, inhaling deeply the scent of Jon's bare body at her nose. Firewood and pine. "Greedy wolf" she whispered against the flesh of his shoulder that had appeared before her lips. She kissed it sweetly, peering up between their suddenly hot bodies.

"It is not greed if it is mine" Jon remarked low and full of possessiveness. He lowered his suddenly parched mouth to her crown. He inhaled the girl once more, curious if she tasted as sweet as she smelt. He met her smoldering gold eyes with a famished, dark stare that sought more than just food. Her eyes returned his glare with a foreign nervousness that was not common for the usually prideful lioness. His dark, hooded stare excited her and made her wary; _she didn't know it was possible to feel both things so intensely at once_. Jon relished in the shyness of her eyes, his inner wolf growling hungrily at its prey. Her vulnerable demeanor excited Jon in ways he did not wish to admit, his mind suddenly wild with thoughts of her squirming and writhing in both pain and pleasure under him, and her struggled moans coming out hastily between his powerful thrust and grip upon her tender flesh.

Jon was shocked by his suddenly dark and sexual thoughts. He couldn't recall a moment in his pubescent life where the idea of dominating a woman excited him and made him hot with need. But it was true; this was not just _any_ woman. This was Eliesse Lannister, and the Gods, new and old were much aware of how she made the bastard hunger and howl. She elicited a thirst in the boy he could scarcely quench on his own and only truly satisfy with her assistance. When she was near, the white wolf in him growled low in the den of Jon's mind, eyes quick and fixated on a basking lion.

Their eyes held for a moment, each contesting and marveling the other in a different light. They both now knew a more _intimate_ touch of their flesh and relished in its memory.

Both hungered for more.

Jon slipped his hand between the girl's fevered thighs, his fingers navigating easily the already moist folds of her femininity. Eliesse gasped at the sudden brazen gesture but realized quickly that Jon had a reason no more to tip-toe his lust around the girl. The bastard wolf would have his way with her, whenever he pleased.

And she would not deny him.

Jon slipped a single finger into her steaming, moist swells, earning a shocked gasp. "You like when I do that, don't you" Jon demanded. It was not a question, for he knew the woman's answer just by the sudden twitch in her hip and grip upon the boy's shoulder. "Tell me. Tell me you like it and I'll continue" Jon said low in the girl's ear, his lip brushing gently the supple, hot flesh of Eliesse's neck. He felt her skin turn to goose-flesh at the gesture.

"I do. I—I _love it"_ Eliesse half moaned and gasped as Jon slipped another finger inside her screaming body. He was satisfied with her response. He stared deeply into Eliesse's eyes, searching for something beyond what he knew or could comprehend. His face mirrored the mild shock that was twisted upon her own. He was unsure of his power over the girl but content nonetheless with its presence. It was like the bastard was a man possessed by lust and tormented by his own selfish need to have the Dornish woman squirm and arch her back at his devilish doing. He continued his torture of the girl, watching intently as Eliesse's face twisted in pleasure and _desperation_ from beneath him. He thought he would nearly spill himself simply at the sight alone of her coming undone by his doing. His heavy breath synchronized with her own, as he lowered his face to her, his nose tenderly brushing the warm and soft apple of her cheek.

" _Eliesse! Lady Eliesse!"_

Jon ripped his hand away from Eliesse in shock and fright at the sudden voice that called out to the Dornish girl from the mouth of the Godswood. Eliesse sat up at once, draping Jon's pelt over her flushed and panting body. They met one another's eyes in shared concern and surprise.

" _Seven hells!_ We need to _leave_... _ **Now**_ _!"_ Eliesse whispered quickly, jumping from beneath Jon's body. Jon rose as well, grabbing a handful of his garments. "Jon, what in the Gods are you—

"If we try to dress, _whoever_ that is will _find_ us just as your fastening your damn dress. We don't have time. Get up, grab your dress and follow me!" Jon demanded, grabbing Eliesse's dress himself when the woman did not make any effort to retrieve it herself.

"And follow you _where?"_ Eliesse snapped, taking Jon's hand as he ripped her from the spot she complained from. He cursed her stubbornness in his mind. _She always has_ _ **something**_ _to protest,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head.

"To my chambers" he whispered quickly, ducking under a low sitting branch and helping Eliesse to do the same.

"You are _mad!_ You want us to dance across the bloody courtyard of Winterfell _naked_ and to _your chambers_? We will be hung by noon!" Eliesse complained after the boy, following his swift, quick movements as he stepped over and pushed through thick brush. Jon stopped suddenly and turned to the girl, causing her to bump into his hard chest. She blushed at the action, glancing away from the watchful stare he leered. She knew she had nothing more to shy away from with the bastard.

He knew her _inside_ and out. And she was _his_ , as he declared.

"My chambers are on the edge of the Godswood...an old, abandoned tower, far from Winterfell's busy courtyard and towers...no one ever goes there...no one ever passes by. It's secluded from the rest of Winterfell...as Lady Stark demanded" Jon said evenly, all emotion drained from his even tone and brooding eyes.

The Godswood fell silent around the pair, with only the chilling sound of forest critters and rustling leaves to fill the tension among them. Eliesse averted her eyes down in sadness, feeling suddenly stupid and ignorant of the matter. Jon's fingers went instantly to the suddenly bruised girl as he lifted her chin from where it dipped in sadness. He met her sorrowful, golden stare with his own stormy, grey one. "Stop that now, girl. The instance does not disturb me...any longer. Besides, I enjoy the quiet it brings. And Ghost appreciates it too. So enough with your sulking at my predicament. I have long forgot my ales on the matter".

Eliesse nodded quietly, taking the bastard's hand once more. "Come. Before they find us" Eliesse whispered. Jon nodded, leading her deeper into the Godswoods.

Jon's grip on the lioness' hand was constricting, to say the least. He didn't speak to the girl, as his mind was focused and precise on the brush before him and making sure they were in fact trekking in the right direction. Every now and then, Jon would glance over his shoulder to Eliesse who would be just as still, despite her mechanic following of the bastard. He would turn around once more, internally frowning at the site of it all. Him... _dragging_ the innocent, Dornish girl behind him, in fear they'd be caught and she punished severely. Jon did not care what would become of _him_ if they were caught lying with another...but he could never forgive himself if sweet Ellie were punished, too. He imagined a smug, satisfied look upon Catelyn Stark's face as his father (and she would see to it that it would be _him_ to deliver the honorable punishment, too) cut the rope that held his neck stiff.

"Here," Jon spoke quietly, pushing through a overhung canopy of evergreen and oak. His arm opened a modest gape in the Godswood, revealing an old, dark tower that looked brittle and old. Eliesse furrowed her brows at the sight, uncomfortable with its upkeep. "I know...it looks dingy, riddled of rot...but it's home. And I assure you it is more pleasing from the inside" Jon's eyes basked over the olive beauty kindly as he tried to reassure her with a rare and quiet smile.

He knew she did not like this...this seeming _treatment_ and condemning of the boy.

 _How awful,_ Eliesse thought painfully to herself as Jon took her hand once more. _How could his father allow Catelyn Stark to hide the bastard away in the ugliest, dingiest tower in the castle?_

"I know what you're thinking...I _told_ my father I wished to stay here. He protested the tower immediately when Lady Stark made move to send me here. Robb, Theon and I had always shared a quarters in the central tower of Winterfell. But when Bran was born, and then little Rickon after, Lady Stark thought it would be more _appropriate_ for Ned's _trueborn_ son's to room together, instead of his eldest and heir shacked up with his ward and bastard. Theon use to room with me...but once Ghost came, he said he couldn't stand the howling he'd do some nights with the other direwolves...that, and his crimson, unblinking stare unsettled him and kept him awake at night. So he was found a small chamber inside Winterfell's main castle. Right above the kitchen and smells of onion and butchered animal flesh. He said _that_ was better than _Ghost_. I was content with his departure, to say the least" Jon chuckled darkly at the memory, though the sound didn't quite suffice his attempt at a crude joke. He pushed open the tower door that was conveniently faced away from the rest of the castle, and held it open. "Come, you'll catch your death if we stay outside any longer. I promise it is at least warm".

Eliesse smiled small, shaking her head disapprovingly of the bastard's dark humor. She walked into the tower that was dimly lit and contained old, wooden stairs that spiraled upward. Eliesse waited patiently for Jon as he followed behind her, sparing quickly over his shoulder a fleeting glance. No one had followed them. Quickly, he closed the tower door, and turned back to his olive beauty. "Up the stairs".

The stairs creaked loudly, even under the lioness' graceful and skilled step. Up the stairs wound, lit barely by orange wisp from torches that did little to assist the naked eye. At the top of the stairs rested a modest, wooden door with a lock. Jon reached into his tunic pocket and pulled forth a rusted, single key. He placed the rusty key into the small, rotted keyhole and unlocked the chamber door. The door thrust open with another familiar lurch, as Jon led Eliesse inside. She was relieved to feel some warmth move past her cold frame that was scarcely concealed within Jon's pelts.

"Pleasant...simple" Eliesse spoke, a sly smile at her plump lips. Jon returned her smirk, setting his dressings on a chair at his bedside table. He walked to a chest and pulled out a pair of pants, to which he quickly stepped into.

"It serves its purpose. I get my quiet, Ghost gets easy access to the Godswood..." Jon muttered, his eyes flickering ever slowly to the Dornish girl. He turned completely to her, taking a slow step in her path. "...and you could come here as often as you'd please. Every night, maybe even every day as well, _my Lady…"_

"Don't get greedy, wolf…" Eliesse placed a halting hand on the lad's chest. He smirked down at her, eyeing her lustfully for the hundredth time this morning. "Besides, I have grown tender from you. I don't think I could handle another _visit_ this morn" Eliesse, turned brisk, sauntering towards her dress that lay askew on Jon's bed. She began to step into it, when she felt Jon's arms snake around her slender waist and the heat that billowed off his chiseled chest.

"You didn't say anything about _tonight._ After dinner, perhaps?" The bastard wolf lowered his lips into the soft crevice of Eliesse's neck. Her eyes fluttered shut almost instantly at the boy's touch. She cursed herself inwardly at the weakness she held for the bastard.

"I will make no promises"

"We shall see, my lady" Jon mused, eyeing her hungrily once more. His stormy eyes brooded wantingly over the lioness as she fastened the last string on her sheer dress. He stepped closer, lifting a large hand to gently trace out the slender shape the girl's hips and bare back. Eliesse watched him curiously as he never dropped her golden gaze. It was as though Jon took quiet satisfaction in drawing forth the lady's lust and vulnerability.

But Eliesse would not be toyed with. _She was a Dornish woman, after all._

Eliesse leaned upwards to the bastard's lips, lifting upon the tips of her toes as she raised both her hands to tangle in his dark, curly mane. Jon did not protest her touch, as he lowered his face to meet the girl's inviting mouth that was already deliciously parted and awaiting. Their lips touched tenderly for a moment, allowing for a few, passionate seconds to pass before they broke apart in slight. They came together once more with growing urgency. Their lips moved slowly, precise and calculated as they tasted one another once more, finding comfort in the flavors they both desperately craved. Jon lowered his hands from the dip in the lioness' back where they resided, gliding smoothly over the taute and round curve of her buttocks. He gently squeezed, pressing her into his obvious erection and holding her flush against it.

Eliesse smiled devilishly into the kiss and _bit roughly_ at the bastard's lip.

Jon jerked away abruptly, eyes full of bewilderment for the _Viperess._ "I did warn you not to be greedy" she mused seductively, her Dornish drawl wetting her words in a sensuality Jon would have to become accustomed to. "I will join you in your chambers after dinner, Lord Snow. Good day" Eliesse smiled politely, and averted around the confused bastard boy.

Jon watched in mild shock and amusement as the Dornish girl disappeared through his chamber doors without so much of spared glance thrown over her shoulder. "Good day indeed, my _Lady…"_ The wolf muttered beneath his breath as he touched his bruised lip and observed a small speckle of blood. _Dornish women..._ he thought as he shook his head tiredly.

—

The bottoms of Eliesse feet stung painfully as she began to flinch after every step taken across Winterfell's courtyard. _Stupid girl...clever you are to throw your damn shoes away…_ she scolded internally, lifting her dress with every other stride.

The castle was slowly becoming a bustle of men and women as they began their daily business...men began drawing horses and cattle about the castle and women began carrying baskets...fresh linens and wheat began to fill the lioness' nose and Winterfell's cold yard.

Eliesse kept her head down while she walked, for fear someone would notice the girl sauntering past in a daring dress and no shoes...a girl who had _conveniently_ disappeared during the night's festivities with a bastard boy close in toe…

... _and never returned._

" _The walk of a whore"_ she remembered her grandfather calling it, as he and Eliesse watched as a slender and young, yellow-haired girl departed her father's room one morning in the capital. She was quick, scurrying past the two proud lion's with her head down and dress barely draped upon ivory flesh. And of course, no shoes. _What happened to her fucking shoes?_ Eliesse remembered wondering. Even at ten and four, she was able to tell a high lady...even a _decent_ lady from a whore. And she was much aware of how both were perceived and regarded by the fact.

She wondered which one she looked the most of at that very moment.

She reached the castle that housed her and dissipated as fast as she could through its grand doors. Her feet padded quietly as she sped down the cold, stone floors of the great keep and up the familiar winding stairs to her chamber. She could scarcely hear the emerging of voices throughout the castle halls as kitchen wenches began flocking inside to prepare the Lord and Lady's meals to break fast.

Eliesse shut the chamber door quietly behind her as she held her breath in anticipation. It creaked quietly at her deceit, though she exhaled sharply in relief that she had made it without causing any scenes or alerting any folk.

Eliesse turned quickly, halting her step as she met Thara's gaze that was wet with agitation. "Th—

"Tell me, do you spare no _regard_ for _anything_ I warn of you?" Thara spoke quietly, her eyes never quivering from the bed she sat upon. Her back was straight, with calloused hands folded calmly over her lap, though Eliesse knew there was no serene emotion within her rigid body.

"I—

"You will _not_ speak!" Thara suddenly hissed, pushing off the bed. In one fluid motion, she stood before the lioness, her eyes scrutinizing the girl's golden ones. "I _told you..._ to heed my words. You _promised me!_ Your word is your only honor in this world. And what you do with it and how you use will determine how people regard you for the rest of your life! You broke your promise to me. You risk your life... _a life that so many have_ _ **died**_ _and risked their peace to preserve! Your mother, myself, your uncle...both of them! Your father—_

"Tyrion Lannister does _not_ care about me!" Eliesse suddenly shouted, her eyes quivering with tears she cursed to not spill. Her heart may have matured but the pain and abandonment it carried had not passed. It was true, though Eliesse's body had begun to sprout and curve and her face change with increasing age, she still much embodied the angry, hurt Dornish girl that would lay awake at night, tormented by a sting in her heart that no father figure or _man_ could subside.

"Tyrion Lannister _risked his life_ to save you! He surrendered and gave _everything_ to preserve your life and ensure you would still draw breath in this world. He went against his war mongering and murderous father...knowing the evil Lord already _loathed_ him for mere little than the travesty he truly committed by not surrendering you and then sending you away! You owe this man _your respect,_ at the very least. You owe _me_ respect...even if I am _just_ your sworn sword and handmaiden" Thara leered shamefully into Eliesse's eyes that averted down in anger and sadness. She knew the Dornish woman was speaking the truth...yes, her father was a _drunk_ and avoided the girl most days because he couldn't stand to peer on a face that was his fierce-love reincarnated...perhaps he drank relentlessly every day to forget it, and drowned his grief with wine and whores just to forget a smile and laugh that still burned bright in the dwarf's tortured mind.

"I'm sorry," Eliesse whispered, meeting her handmaiden's stern glare. "I...I didn't know that...I never thought this would all happen, that Jon would follow me…" Eliesse walked past Thara, her hands pressed tiredly against her flushed cheeks. She approached her fogged window, opening the tapestry quietly and peering into the crisp, courtyard. "I try...I _tried_ to heed your word. I really did, but he—

" _Jon_? It was the _bastard_ you were with?" Thara whispered, her eyes running wild once more at the girl. She walked quickly to Eliesse, thrusting the girl forward in a single gesture and gripping her face between harsh fingers. She stared at Eliesse, scrutinizing her face, turning it about from left to right...her eyes bore into the girl, dropping to her neck and chest. " _He has deflowered you!"_ Thara hissed low, no question lingering on her frantic tone. She grabbed Eliesse's arm, and yanked her forward once more. " _Tell me he hasn't, Eliesse! Tell me!"_

Eliesse tore her arm from Thara angrily. Finally, the tears that had been pooling and churning above the brim of her eye spilled forward. Eliesse pushed past Thara angrily, storming for the chamber doors. She did not wish to listen any longer to the woman's accusations or bare her judgmental stare.

Thara followed the girl, grabbing her arm once more as she tried to flee from the quarters. "Let me go!" Eliesse hissed, fighting to free herself from the woman. Thara swiftly pinned the girl to the wall before her chamber with a warrior's skill. Eliesse thrashed angrily, spewing tears and anger about the handmaid's face.

"Never...I made a promise to your uncle...that I would do everything to _protect_ you…and I've _failed_. I've grown too soft, too _careless and naive_ of the words you feed me. Eliesse...you will get yourself _killed._ I know you _love him..._ but I have warned you that we are many moons from our home, where your love would not be frowned upon. Here...the men in these _cold_ and _proud_ lands would _kill you_ for laying with a bastard. There are men _right now_ in this castle who walk proudly as though you are _property_ to them! And they would _kill_ Jon…this is a dangerous game you are playing, and I won't stand by and allow it".

Thara dropped Eliesse's arm and turned swift once more to the bath chambers. Eliesse subconsciously rubbed her sore wrist where the woman held her from, flinching at the angry red print where she held her too rough. She listened curiously to the rummaging of bottles and glass as she walked slowly to the chamber doors, observingly.

She watched as Thara began mixing something in a small pot and threw many herbs inside that she could not identify. Strange, strong odors filled the lioness' nose as she furrowed her brows curiously at what Thara was brewing. The older, Dornish woman tirelessly worked, her hands quick with an urgency Eliesse had never witnessed before or could scarcely understand.

"What are you doing…" Eliesse demanded, watching the woman who looked mad and possessed by unfamiliar rage. Thara threw the remnants of whatever she were mixing into a pot and placed it above a fire. She ran her fingers anxiously through her black hair, tugging absentmindedly at its root. Eliesse was sure she would pull her black locks out at the stem by how white and ghostly her knuckles had become. Thara peered at the girl with regretful eyes that held intent she wished not to speak of.

"I am making you moon tea" she answered finally after a grueling pause. Her eyes flickered back to the pot that had begun to steam and excrete the strange scents in stronger waves. Eliesse stared at Thara curiously, unsure of what _moon tea_ was or why in this moment, Thara felt it were necessary to have. Her stomach churned uncomfortably at the ominity of it.

"What is moon tea?" Eliesse whispered, unsure if she wanted to know the truth. Thara would not meet the girl's eyes as she stood rigid and still at the pot before the fire, mixing slowly ever so often. Eliesse felt her stomach churn further at her handmaid's silence, as it rarely came forth. Whatever the _moon tea_ was, it was obvious that it was not a pleasantry of sorts.

Thara stirred the pot slowly, taking a chalice from the bath side table. She removed the strange, bubbling pot carefully and poured the steaming contents. Eliesse could scarcely make out a reflection of lavender in the cup as she watched Thara stir it once more within the chalice. She turned to Eliesse, her eyes hollow and grim with a sadness Eliesse wished to not hear of.

"It is a tea that is used to prevent and rid seeds that _could_ or may have _already_ taken root…" Thara whispered, finally coming to stand before the suddenly pale girl. She extended the glass forward, her eyes _pleading_ for Eliesse to drink it.

Eliesse's face twisted in a horror she couldn't quite comprehend. " _You've gone mad"_ she whispered low, her once proud voice cracking with shock and fright. Thara couldn't _truly_ mean for the girl to _kill_ a baby that _might've_ begun to sprout.

" _Please,_ my flower...you _must_ drink it. There would be _grave_ consequences should you leave the bastard's seed to settle...don't _do this_ to yourself. I fear for your life, my sweet girl. If you were taken with child...they would find out! Everything! You would be punished in ways I wish to never know...and Jon...they'd hunt that boy down at the Wall he watched from and hang him whilst he slept! You both are too _innocent_ , too pure hearted... _please..._ what use are you to avenging your mother and great Dorne if you are _dead?"_

Eliesse watched as tears streamed shamelessly down Thara's rusted cheeks, and lips tremble in agony the girl knew nothing of. "I can't lose you, too...your mother...was my _greatest_ _friend_. I swore to all the Gods...to my _once lover Oberyn_...I would protect you like you were my _own_...I can't protect you if you are discovered to be with child. And I would _never_ forgive myself if they killed you and your babe while he or she nestled within your womb... _please_...if you love Jon, _truly_ love him, my flower...you won't sentence him to die. And this... _keeping this babe_ that _might_ be settled at your womb as we speak...would be swinging the executioner's sword or cutting the rope that holds his breath at bay. _Please…"_ Thara's eye searched the Dornish woman's relentlessly as her fingers held the steaming cup tight. Her words were genuine and true...she feared wholeheartedly for sweet Ellie, and even the bastard boy, Jon Snow.

Thara foreshadowed in her mind the lioness' demise if she took with child. Thara had heard whispers about Winterfell's stone walls of the King's begs for his dear brother Ned Stark to agree to wed his son to Eliesse, as an alliance and _compliance_ of Dorne and the remaining six kingdoms...Ned Stark's uncertainty was whispered, too...something of Robb being sworn to another and honor holding the Warden bound to his word.

But Robert was his brother, and more than that, the _King._

And the King would have his way, with _all_ complying or feeling his wrath.

If Eliesse had a child by a _bastard..._ that child would hold no claim to the south, and give Robert no control of the sun stroked lands. For Robb Stark was his namesake, his nephew by loyalty and a pawn in his dangerous game. Marrying Eliesse, _a loyal Lannister by oath,_ endorsed by Tywin Lannister, and his dear brother's son was the apple of King Robert's plan...and Catelyn Stark would uproar in marrying her firstborn son to a _whore_.

So, _honor_ would bound the King to oblige her woes...

...and _he_ would lose his crown territory, and _Jon_ and _Eliesse_ would lose their heads for it.

Eliesse stared painfully into Thara's eyes, part of her knowing the woman was _right_ and spoke the truth _._

 _Who would Eliesse become if she was taken with child?_

She could not _tear_ the Lannister house down if she were with child...she would be _weak_ and halted from her vengeful mission she swore before her great uncle.

More than that, her _heart_ would be _weak._ To bring an innocent life into looming chaos...and have to wonder every day how she would keep that child _safe..._ especially from vengeful hands and ill-intentioned hearts...her life would be consumed of paranoia and fear for her sweet, innocent babe. What kind of life would she be bringing them into?

 _A life of endless suffering and worry...with no real place to call home…_

 _ **...and no father to love.**_

 _Jon._

Ned Stark's innocent, brave and honorable, _bastard_ son…

... _killed instantly by her selfish choice._

What purpose would her life serve then if she lost the only man she's ever _truly_ loved? The one person besides her mother and deceased aunt and cousins...her _homeland_...she swore her sword and vengeance for…

...If Jon died, what point would this mission to free herself of this _damned_ life, where she were bound by chain and _honor_ to a Lannister name, be?

 _There would be none._

She promised the boy they'd run away together. To a land she knew to be home...and if they couldn't reach that land, they would sail somewhere else...somewhere far from Robert's swords and Tywin's claws…and she knew she wouldn't make it there while with child _._

 _Either_ _ **she**_ _would die…_

 _...or her_ _ **babe**_ _._

Or perhaps _both._ And then poor Jon Snow soon after, since she _knew_ he could not live in a world where he witnessed his two only reasons for existing and thwarting all honor had perished.

Death consumed the Dornish girl's mind as she peered warily upon the steaming, purple tea. It called to her, a strange whisper above the tension in the room that sang a song of death and _curses_. Eliesse felt a strange chill run ramped up her shivering spine.

The Dornish girl exhaled quietly, her eyes shutting in sadness and grief. She stayed still for a moment, pondering tirelessly her choices. Thara watched the girl intently, her face withered and riddled of worry that was sure to age the woman five years beyond where she stood.

 _Eliesse took the steaming cup from Thara's hand slowly._

She met her trusted handmaid's eyes who released the grief and worry that had been trapped behind her dark eyes. Thara took the girl by the small of her back and led her to her bed. The strong, bitter stench stung Eliesse's nose as she fought all her body's instincts to cast the cup of _poison_ away.

Eliesse sat, her fingers trembling upon the chalice that had begun to react to its sweltering contents and become hot to the touch. "Will it hurt?" The lioness asked quietly, her face firm and rid of all the pain and sadness that lay true to her insides. She would be strong... _unbent._ Thara joined the girl at her side, placing a comforting hand on her leg and at her back. She lifted a thin finger and tucked away a rebellious golden lock that had fallen free from Eliesse's hair.

"I promise you, my flower...it is painless. Some women have said it made them _sick..._ perhaps you should eat lightly at tonight's feast as to not disturb your belly any further" Thara stroked Eliesse's hair adoringly, encouraging her to drink her chalice. The handmaid worried if any more time should pass, the girl would change her mind and cast the tea away, dooming herself once and for all.

 _She wouldn't blame the girl._

She had been young and in love once upon a time to man who's smile sang to all the women of Dorne. He whispered sweet nothings at her ear, made promises she knew he _couldn't_ keep...so she let him go; wise and strong the woman was. _Oberyn was ever fickle about monogamy..._ so she loved him in other ways, like watching lovingly over his beloved niece.

 _And he loved her unconditionally for it._

Eliesse raised the chalice slowly, unsure if she should inhale the peculiar smells that whispered to her. Her mind lay adrift to stormy, grey eyes and tuffles of dark curls...she wondered for a moment if she were doing the right thing or _wrong._ To be making such a choice without consulting Jon…

... _what would he say?_

Or worse, _what would he think?_

The moon tea was simply precautionary; it would eliminate any and _all_ risk that Jon's seed could've posed. But Eliesse knew in her heart that it was not _right._ To deceive the boy…after reconciling such painful memories...it did not sit right with the lioness.

She remembered her promise to Jon...they were to run away together.

Eliesse's mind drifted away to the night before under the great weirwood tree...

 _Strange, red leafs fell silently around the panting lovers as their bodies finally slowed in the still night. Jon and the lady had spent themselves nearly dry, as he pulled the woman close and gazed passionately upon her eyes. The bastard's eyes held words he had not spoke and feelings he feared in their fierce entirety. The way Eliesse gazed back at him made the boy nervous for what she saw._

 _He was always ashamed of what he was, never quite finding worth within his meager, bastardly existence. He especially loathed the dark thought that Eliesse would wake one day and realize that she deserved someone who's name held more honor, more worth...more nobility in a world that ran scarce of it. She was a Lannister, for God's sake. That had to have meant something to her...didn't she want more for herself? Didn't she want more than just a Snow?_

 _As though the Dornish woman had heard his thoughts, she tenderly reached up at his stubbled face and stroked his cheek lovingly. "Stop it" she whispered quietly, her eyes slanting in disapproval. Jon blinked suddenly, his surprise and confusion bewitching his handsome, brooding face._

" _Stop what?"_

" _Stop wondering why I love you. It will age you quicker than you wish, boy" She smirked up at him, brushing a tender and soft finger across his warm lips. Jon wished to take the girl once more as he eyed her hungrily for the seducing gesture. She was always so affectionate, so daring...so_ _ **Dornish**_ _. "I wish to know something, Lord Snow" she suddenly said, sitting up in slight. She pulled Jon's furs to her exposed breast, as though she were suddenly trying to hide herself from his ever watchful glare._

" _Anything" He whispered, sitting up as well. He searched her eyes for some indication to what ailed her mind so suddenly, but came up short. Eliesse was always so guarded. She never could fully open up to the bastard, no matter how many times he reassured her his love and compassion._

 _Her heart was forever tender. Still, Jon did not mind. He would have the rest of his existence to change that._

" _Do you mean to still take the Black? I want to know if your vows have truly changed" Eliesse spoke suddenly, her eyes sharp and daring. Jon blinked honestly, glancing up at the weirwood tree that seemed to strangely be awaiting his response as well. He glanced back at the girl who never moved from her rigid place between his legs. Though she resembled in this sweet moment so much of the young Dornish girl he'd fallen in love with many years ago, he knew she lacked the patience that girl once bore. He knew he should speak quick and truthfully._

" _I will thwart my promise to my uncle and tell him I've changed my mind. He will not protest...the man had been trying to convince me that I was making the wrong choice, anyhow...but only if you will allow me to have you. And you will be mine..._ _ **only mine**_ _, Eliesse Lannister" Jon grasped the girl's wrist and thrust her forward into his suddenly hot chest and thundering heart. She gasped, meeting his gaze that was mere inches away. He was so close, she could feel the heat that swelled from his lips as he spoke once more. "I will not ride north in a few days time when the Kingsguard departs Winterfell and my uncle returns north to the Wall. I will remain with you...but we cannot stay. Lady Catelyn will have no parts of my residing in Winterfell while my father rides south for Kings Landing with my sisters and Bran. So we will have to leave" Jon spoke firmly, his eyes searching the Dornish girl's for a quiver of regret or disagreement._

 _But he did not find it._

 _Eliesse gazed adoringly into Jon's eyes as she raised her hand to stroke the side of his chiseled jaw. "We will leave at dawn. The morning before the Guard departs. Robert's knights and followers will be drunk on wine and whores late unto the night before they leave. We risk being spotted by one of those fools stumbling about the yard. The King and his asses will be drunk and sluggish the next morning. They will be slow, late at departing Winterfell with Ned and the children. If we leave at sunrise, we can slip away unnoticed and be miles ahead of them on the Kings Road…"_

" _And go where? A raven will reach the Twins by noon before we would even be close to crossing the Barrowlands. Walder Frey would capture us early the next morn and turn us over to Robert...and my father" Jon spoke warily, his mind stinging at the realization that he would be going against the great Lord. He hoped in his mind, to some degree or another, that his father could understand why he would leave. What life would Lord Stark be leaving for Jon once he left? Little to none. And Jon was certain once Ned Stark was far enough away, Catelyn Stark would send for a mercenary to slit the boy's throat while he rested._

 _But still, Jon worried. He worried that his father would not understand how_ _ **love**_ _had been the driving force behind his fleeing with the lioness… or that Eliesse did not know the north as he did, she was unaware of how much danger surrounded them from the moment they stepped outside Winterfell's gates. Allies would turn to enemies and sworn friends would hunt them down in the dead of the night._

" _You must think I am daft, boy. The Kings Road is too dangerous to travel. We shall go east to Widow's Watch. A merchant who delivers to House Flint owes me a duty…he will oblige on Lord Oberyn Martell's honor and take us to Pentos" Eliesse smirked knowingly, resting once more into Jon's arm, satisfied beyond Jon's understanding._

 _Jon glanced down to the girl, his brow furrowing in curiosity and confusion. "Pentos? What is in Pentos that beckons our presence?" He wondered if the girl had gone mad...or was drunk on their lovemaking._

 _Eliesse looked silently upon the bastard, her smile never withering and eyes never losing their wise knowingness that unsettled the bastard, despite._

" _I wish to know if_ _ **dragons**_ _still honor their alliance with_ _ **vipers**_ _..."_

"Eliesse, please... _drink"_ Thara's voice called to the girl, drawing her forth from her reminiscent mind.

Eliesse's glare flickered downwards once more to the steaming cup that held truths and consequences to come. She was fearful. In that moment, Eliesse Lannister was undoubtedly _afraid._ Afraid for the moon tea, afraid for a baby she _could_ be harming...afraid for the words of a bastard who might be cross at her choice and lack of compassion in his _own_ concern.

But she knew it was for the better. For her...for Jon…

...for an innocent babe who'd be brought into a world of impending war and chaos.

Eliesse lifted the chalice to her trembling lips and drew back the bitter and horrid liquid.

—

Jon Snow sat eagerly at the squires table in Winterfell's feasting hall. Young boys and men had been chattering below his ear all night, as they awaited the Royal Procession to grace the grand chamber. "What has you jittering like a whore in the Sept, Snow?" Theon Greyjoy mused from Jon's side. Jon glanced dismissively to the lad, sipping his summerwine slowly. He hated that his father had called for the boy to sit at the squire's table this evening...but he had done something _dishonorable_ to one of the soldier's daughters and word had gotten back to Lord Stark. The bastard relished inwardly at the demotion of the Iron Born boy.

"Nothing, I am hungry and ready to eat" Jon lied, turning further from Theon's curious stare. It was not true. Jon was _eager_ to see Eliesse... _his_ , sweet Ellie of Dorne. He wanted to gaze lovingly on her olive face as she walked down the aisle and to her seat under the head table. He wanted to steal glances with her and fester with long and desire for her touch and their agreed meeting at his chambers after the festivities. If he was lucky, Jon thought he might've been able to steal a dance with the girl while the Lord's and Lady's around him drowned in wine and jests. And hopefully, once the hall became drunk with laughter and perverted men, they could slip away into the cold night and across a quiet courtyard.

A horn sounded as the feasting chamber door opened grandly and the Royal Procession began to pour in. Jon scarcely watched anyone's faces like he usually always had. Every other time in the lad's life, he'd watched sadly as his beloved siblings and father whisked happily into the chamber, high Lords and Lady's clapping in awe at their proud feet. Jon always wished he too could join the Procession and be regarded with such respect.

 _Just once._

But the opportunity never came.

And yet, _it suddenly didn't matter._

In walked the woman who held the bastard wolf's world on whim. Tonight, she was adorned in gold silk that somehow made her skin glow more tawny and eyes radiate liquid honey.

She was holding once more to the boy's brother Robb, who held the woman too tight at her slender arm. It was obvious to anyone watching that the Prince of Winterfell was _quite_ smitten with the girl. He smiled like a fool in love...the notion made Jon cringe in jealousy and sadness. He didn't like watching how Robb held _his_ Eliesse. The grip was close and sincere, and meant more to Robb than it did Eliesse. Jon felt a tinge of sadness for his brother, momentarily. He knew he was quite taken with the girl...but there would be others. Robb did not _nearly_ possess the knowledge of or held _genuine_ love and adoration for the girl. At least, Jon thought he didn't. And the bastard was _sure_ , that once he and Eliesse were gone, he would get over his little _crush._

Besides…

 _..._ Robb was betrothed to a Frey girl. Eliesse was _never_ meant for the boy.

And truth would serve, if Robb _knew_ how deeply Jon loved the lioness, he would not stand in the way. Robb was Jon's _greatest_ friend. He had witnessed first hand his entire life, Jon being ridiculed, regarded as filth and treated cruelly...if he knew the Dornish girl loved his bastard brother so and wished to marry the boy, he would _not_ stand in the way.

 _He wanted Jon to be happy, even if that meant sacrificing a girl he fancied._

There would always be more. Robb was ever dashing and maidens sung to him relentlessly.

But something this night was not _right._

Jon watched as Eliesse passed him by. Her eyes did not flicker to the bastard like they usually had...they remained straight and focused on their duty.

But there was something else...and Jon could not put his finger on it, no matter how long he gazed upon the girl he thought he knew so well. Something in his chest ached suddenly, though the boy could draw no finger to its origin.

Eliesse sat silently at the table among the other Stark children. Robb allowed his hand to linger at the nape of her neck before he joined her. "My lady, you are quiet this evening" The young wolf remarked, watched her closely. "Are you ill? I can send for your dinner to be taken in your chambers, Eliesse…" Robb lifted a firm hand to rest upon Eliesse's strangely chilled one.

Eliesse withdrew from the boy's touch at once, flinching at the sudden gesture. "I'm sorry, Robb...I think I must've eaten something that has not settled with me from this afternoon…" The lioness' stomach stung and bubbled horrendously from the moon tea she had drank earlier in the day. For hours, she had writhed silently at her bed, the only comfort drawing forth from Thara's wetting of a cloth at her feverish head. Her handmaiden had protested her attendance of the feast, telling the girl she would see to it that her dinner could be had in the comfort of her room...but Eliesse would hear nothing of it.

Truthfully, Eliesse wished to see _him._ She knew Jon would be expecting her, and if she did not arrive in the feasting hall, he would undoubtedly leave to search for her.

And she couldn't risk him being caught. Not whilst so much rested upon their compliance over the next few days and ability to remain under Lady Stark and King Robert's watchful glare.

Robb brushed the girl's cheek tenderly in an effort to comfort her troubled face. "I've only seen that face once…and it appeared right before little Sansa spewed onion and chicken about my lap...so, forgive me my lady if I turn a little away from your _beautiful_ face" Robb teased with a slick smile. He patted her thigh gently, reassuring the girl that he _would_ stay, despite his jests he'd not. Eliesse smiled small in thanks, though deep down she knew Robb would likely _never_ leave her side unless she cast him away herself.

 _A loud clanking of chalice broke the chattering hall._

A great chair lurched as King Robert stood from his honorable seat at the high table. "Here ye! Men and women of Winterfell's great feasting hall...Baratheon, Lannister and Stark alike...I bid you a cheers as we move closer to our departure of these vast and great, Northern lands…" King Robert roared, eliciting a fury of table banging and men who sung their allegiance drunkingly.

"Aye...good, _brave_ men...all of you! You have carried my banners, raised your swords at my call...I remember your faces…all of you who have served me and helped raise me to this throne! To you!" King Robert boomed once more, downing his chalice piggishly. Eliesse cringed as she watched red liquor slip from the fat man's neck and run wild down his fine silks. _This is not a King..._ she thought to herself, sipping her own glass of wine. And it would seem the King's wife would agree too...Eliesse watched as Cersei Lannister's ever bored and irritated face twisted in disgust as Robert's wine dripped messily about the table, likely landing on the proud Queen herself. Eliesse smirked at the fact.

"In our stay at this proud castle, we celebrated the joining of houses to come...the crown Prince Joffrey and Sansa Stark of Winterfell...May the Gods bless them in their time coming…" Robert's eyes flickered to a bashful Sansa Stark who giggled childishly with her friends and batted eyes at the Prince. Joffrey smiled back, mischievous and proud.

"But tonight, we celebrate once more...the forming of _greater_ alliances, greater _power_ and honorable men and women coming together for sworn duty and reign…The north aligning with the south once more..." Robert began, lifting his chalice to his faithful men and soldiers.

Eliesse glanced to her uncle Jaime Lannister who stared curiously up at the King. He looked confused at what the fat drunk spoke of... _and he was part of the Kingsguard._ Jaime turned quietly, begging his sisters ear at his side who suddenly looked very _content._ She whispered gently at the King Slayer, who suddenly went rigid and wide eyed at his seat. He jumped back to gaze in shock at his daring sister.

The look was unsettling, to say the least. At least it was from where Eliesse sat.

 _What in the Gods had she said?_

Eliesse stared curiously at her uncle, hoping to catch his eye. She hoped the truth still remained there and was apparent for her own curious mind. But suddenly, when his eye came and _pity_ that followed it, a cruel realization drew forth and she _wished_ with all her heart and soul she hadn't.

 _No…_

"Robb Stark, Prince of Winterfell...shall marry Eliesse Lannister, the Viperess of Dorne and Tiger of Casterly Rock! Together they too will join their houses! All hail the Lord and Lady of Winterfell!"

—

A/N:

Hi there! Before you cringe and think "Damn it! Another OC and Jon fic where she falls for Robb again...and ultimately stop reading...don't! I promise this is not a theme in my story. Trust me...read the next chapter and A/N at the bottom. It will explain this madness and hopefully relieve you. Don't worry, I hate those Robb x OC x Jon stories too, lol.

~RL


	11. Chapter 11

An amorous cheer erupted in Winterfell's great feasting hall. Men, women and children shouted their glory and jest, striking the room in deafening celebration.

The air surrounding Eliesse turned abruptly hot and thick, stifling the olive beauty from where she sat. In...and out...her breath drew forth and left again from suddenly parched lips. Her heart, once steady and even at the night's banter, suddenly drew fast, _screaming_ its woes and protest from behind trembling ribs.

"Robb," her voice cracked above a whisper shamelessly. "Robb...did you…did you _know?"_ Eliesse's body fell rigid and stiff from where she sat quietly. The cheers and clinking of chalices roared indefinitely around her as she fought to remain composed through the banter. " _Robb!"_ She shouted when no word drew from the young wolf at her side.

Robb flinched at the lioness' growl, his own mind ramped and wild at the news that had just ensued. _He was just as surprised._ He turned to Eliesse with eyes wide in sincerity. "Ellie, no... _I swear it"_ he whispered, grabbing the Dornish girl's hand. Eliesse withdrew from his touch at once, casting the boy away like he'd burned her. " _Ellie please._ I would not lie to you...I told you the other night...my parents, they asked of me my opinion...in what qualities I thought a good wife and mother would possess, and if I had a choice to choose my wife, who I would want. Ellie, I'm sure the fact has not slipped passed your clever eyes...I...like you. A lot...I said your name...But I didn't think my father or mother would heed my words so dearly...they agreed, undoubtedly, but told me that there was no way for them to thwart their word to Walder Frey, who's daughter I am promised for...I—I don't know what has changed" Robb answered quickly, his hand lifting to grasp the suddenly pale girl. She was cold to the touch, her skin rid of all obvious life. "Please believe me, Eliesse. I would not lie. I would never... _hurt_ you. And if this _hurts..._ I will—

Eliesse rose in a might from the great, oak table. Her breath was still afloat in the unbearably fevered hall. She glanced around her to pale faces that smiled and clapped as though she had won a grand tournament or prize. Her gut twisted in sickness.

 _Sansa...Arya...Bran, bless his heart with a toothless smile...little Rickon...all happy for the sister gained._

 **All unaware of the collateral damage they had become.**

Eliesse's snapped to the head table, her eyes meeting King Robert's and holding ever firm.

He smiled, his eyes rid of anything honest or sincere. He looked like a man who had won a great war...he smirked at the lioness, raising his chalice in cheers to the girl. And beside him, Cersei Lannister, his wretched _Queen,_ smirked mischievously, her own lips flush on her wine glass.

Eliesse's stomach erupted in a fit of angst. Through all her unwavering sickness and nausea, she remembered who had _also_ been present for the King's grand announcement. Undoubtedly...the only person who she cared the most of how they were affected by this _grave_ news.

 _Jon._

Eliesse froze, her eyes shutting painfully for fear of what they might've seen if they looked on in the direction of the one person who could've been writhing just as horridly from the King's news.

 _The Gods were cruel. They must've loathed the bastard wolf and lioness._

Eliesse turned slowly, tears brewing a storm in her eyes and threatening to lay wrath as she looked to Jon's seat at the squires table.

But he was not there _._

"If you'll excuse me…" Eliesse gathered her gown at her feet in a hurry and leapt from the Stark children's table. Robb watched the girl, concern besieging his face as he extended a hand to try to assist the fleeing maiden.

But she withdrew from his touch. And soon, her body had fled from his looming presence.

With her breath hung still at her throat, Eliesse walked briskly down the great hall's corridor, her eyes ablaze on the cobblestone before her. Vaguely, she thought she could hear the calls of men and women alike to her, their voices mixing in a resolution she dared not acknowledge.

Eliesse thrust the great doors open, relishing in the sudden silence of Winterfell's frigid courtyard. The doors lurched with a grand thud behind her as they closed, sealing drunk men and women who bid her congratulations within.

Rapidly, the girl's eyes darted from left to right, _frantic_ and searching for Jon's fleeing figure.

But she never found him.

Sh glanced desperately in the direction of the eerie Godswood that seemed to sing to the ailing lioness... _He would be there_. Eliesse took a step quickly, marching for its familiar mouth that seemed to part and beg the lioness forward.

Suddenly, the woman halted her desperate step. _Kingsguard men._

"Lady Eliesse" a Knight basked in gold nodded, paying gratitude to the girl. Eliesse stood straight, casting away all worry and fear from her strained posture. She nodded in response, proud and unphased.

Eliesse realized quickly that she would not be able to follow Jon into the Godswood, where she was _sure_ the bastard had gone. She cursed inwardly the King, his bitch and the whole _fucking_ Guard. She watched as men and women began to file in and out of Winterfell's feasting hall, all drunk, all tripping and cursing happily into the crisp northern air.

"Lady Eliesse!" A prickled, red haired man called to the girl. The lioness turned peculiarly, her brow furrowed in confusion at his bold call of the Dornish girl.

"Do I know you, Ser?" Eliesse spoke curiously, watching the man who stumbled towards her. _He was drunk_...overly so, the girl realized. Eliesse cringed inwardly at the observation and wished she hadn't responded to the putrid man. The smell of wine and perfume hung to the man like a corpse. She internally gagged at the observation.

"No...but...I want you to know…" The man swayed heavily from side to side, watching the woman with a curious glint in his eye that was surely fueled by ale and wine. "I am happy to call you _Lady Stark..._ winter is here, girl" he shot the beauty a rotted, yellow smile before turning back towards the basking hall.

Eliesse sucked in a fevered breath, feeling the _nausea_ return to her rigid body once more. _She couldn't remain in this courtyard any longer with these strange, pale_ , _northern faces._

Eliesse turned and walked swiftly to the castle. The lioness' head was bowed low and avoiding of the folk that passed her in the late hour of the night. Many cheers and laughter followed behind her as she continued to flee as quick as her silks would allow in the chilling night.

The lioness burst through the castle doors and found her way once more up the winding stairs to her chambers. She thrust the great doors open, meeting comforting silence and the crackle of a newly lit fire. Though Thara was not there, she left some comfort for the girl.

Eliesse exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding still for so long. She pressed her bare back against the chill of the chamber door, relishing in the relief it paid to her flustered skin. She closed her eyes slowly, the trembling and brew of her stomach returning with a vengeance. _Cursed moon tea._

Eliesse pushed from the chamber door and took a daunting step forward into the room. Her stomach lurched at once, beckoning it's woes to the suddenly weak girl. Eliesse grasped the edge of her bed post desperately, searching for a balance that evaded the her so suddenly. Her body ran hot and then cold, clouding her usually keen senses and rendering the girl uneasy.

Eliesse fell sick, spilling the contents of the little feast she _did_ manage to consume during its short duration on the cold stone floor. She grasped her ailing abdomen, feeling as though her insides were being branded with hot iron and carved out with glass. She stumbled to the window, desperate to allow a refreshing breath of northern air into the room, in hopes it would alleviate the heat that had begun to swoon the lioness. Her vision waived, trembling at its seam as the girl fought through the unfamiliar sensory.

She fell against the glass in a heap, her fingers trembling at the tapestry she fought to free. Slowly, she drew the window open, greedily sucking in the cold, crisp air. She closed her eyes, her breath fighting for a steady rhythm it could not render.

Tiredly, her golden eyes fluttered open and began to register the scenic and cold courtyard of a Winterfell.

A blurry wisp of a man and large white dog invaded her eyes.

 _Jon and Ghost._

Eliesse leaned into the window, trying her hardest to make out Jon's figure in the foggy, crisp night. His body wavered and swayed at her sight as she tried her best to make out his slender frame.

She felt her vision begin to falter as her body began to tremble in weakness. _She was going to faint._

The girl grabbed desperately at the windowsill, trying to steady herself from the darkness that lapped at the brim of her mind and called ominously to her. She watched as Jon walked slowly ahead of his white wolf, who trotted ever slowly behind. _Ghost…_

Jon's head was low in what the girl could only assume to be unrequited _misery_. Eliesse's heart sank at the sight as she fought her dizziness and stared intently at the wolf, beckoning with her mind for him to turn to meet the weak girl. _Please. Please, Ghost...look at me._

And though the woman's body might've been weak...

 _...her_ _ **mind**_ _wasn't._

"Ghost…" she called softly at the window, her voice cracking and begging the wolf to turn to meet her weak and trembling stare. While the sound she scarcely drew was barely over a whisper on the bellowing wind, she knew the direwolf would hear it.

And she was correct.

Ghost halted, turning slowly to the strange tower that housed the lioness. He gazed unblinking up at Eliesse's shaking silhouette in the frosted glass, tilting his large head curiously to the side.

Eliesse stared intensely at the wolf, feeling the familiar tingle that begun at her core and radiated up and through her limbs. She held Ghost's sharp red glare, her gold ones focused with strange intensity.

She closed her heavy eyes in weakness…

 _...and opened haunting white ones in strength._

The woman's body gave out and fell at windowsill in a might. And though her body crashed to the floor in a thunderous heap, her eyes remained opened and unblinking, _too much aware of the world around her._

Outside, the woman's mysterious soul surged powerfully through the crisp night and took refuge in the great, white direwolf. She opened her eyes once more, and felt an intense heat and tremble at her core that was unusual for the lioness.

"Ghost, to me"

Eliesse glanced forward, meeting eyes that would forever flip her world on its axis. _Jon._ Even through Ghost's mind...body, the boy still elicited a fire in the woman that she could scarcely manage. Her heart trembled against her strange, burly chest as she took slow steps forward, testing the beast she had embodied.

Eliesse approached Jon, her eyes unblinking, relishing in an awe she could only hold for this bastard boy. Through Ghost's senses, she basked in Jon's aromatic flavors that she'd memorized so well in her human form. And with Ghost's heightened senses, those delicious flavors beckoned stronger to her. She stopped curtly at Jon's foot, hesitating before nuzzling his leg. _Even in this body, the feel of his own was still mesmerizing._

Jon knelt on his knee before the great wolf. He stared deeply into Ghost's eyes, finding a strange awareness he hadn't seen before. "Affectionate tonight, boy? The Gods know I need it. Come on then, let's walk. Now, Ghost" Jon beckoned the wolf forward, watching pleasingly as the pup obliged.

Eliesse trudged quietly beside Jon, glancing every now and then up at the unaware bastard. Jon met Ghost's peculiar stare every so often, cocking a dark brow at the white wolf. "I'm surprised you haven't taken off on me yet, boy" he muttered, kicking a discarded rock from his path. Eliesse remained quiet, keeping pace with Jon closely.

"She's to be married, boy. Our Ellie...is meant for Robb, now…" Jon suddenly spoke after a chilling moment. Eliesse snapped her gaze up at Jon, her blood red eyes running strangely wide and concerned, even for the wolf pup. Jon chuckled darkly at this. "I know, I'm shocked too...maybe that's why she didn't look at me tonight...in the hall...perhaps...she had _known"_ Jon squeezed his leathered fist at his side, his head suddenly falling like he'd been shunned for the hundredth time in his minuscule life.

Eliesse stopped her pace with the boy, growling. _I didn't know, you arse! I was just as shocked! It wasn't my bloody idea...you can't actually believe that Jon..._ she screamed in the wolf's mind. Jon stared strangely at his loyal wolf who seemed disgruntled at his words. He chuckled inwardly at the notion. Perhaps Ghost was on _their_ side, too.

"You disagree?" Jon smiled sadly, kneeling once more before the wolf. Eliesse snorted, turning her large head from the boy. Jon laughed lightly, grabbing the stubborn wolf playfully by his head. "Look at you; behaving cheekily like our Dornish lady. She has quite the attitude and I'd much rather you not learn it, Ghost". Eliesse howled her annoyance, pulling from the boy's grasp and earning another hearty laugh. Even in despair, Jon always knew how to make others happy. He always did...he probably always would. "I love her, Ghost. I love her more than I love myself...more than anything or anyone. This crazy woman...she thought I fancied Jemma...the Gods new and old know that the fire that burns in my heart for that girl could set all of Westeros ablaze...and burn it to the ground. Every person. I wouldn't bat an eye or feel an inkling of remorse at the catastrophe, you know. As long as she were the only one to live".

Eliesse turned slowly back to Jon, her eyes watering in agony at the boy's woes and professions. _I love you too, Jon Snow._ Her heart suddenly ran hot once more and she wished her human body hadn't given way so quick. In that moment, she could've leapt from her windowsill and found the bastard boy in the woods and before the strange weir tree, as always. She would've jumped into his arms and kissed the darkness from his stormy eyes.

Jon remained knelt at his companion, ruffling the great wolf's white coat. It comforted him. "Look, boy…" Jon reached slowly into the pocket of his tunic and pulled out a small, silver ring. The circle that made the ring was a snake's body and wrapped sleuthly around the fine metal. It met at the top of the glittering ring, a wolf's face.

 _A snake and wolf intertwined, woven and engraved together in the still of time._

"...it took two days, but I managed to beg the Master of Smithing to make this for me...all the gold I had, too. Some for payment of labor, some for payment of silence. He swore it, though...I wanted to give this to her on the dawn we left this place...and ask her to be my wife. I know I have no name to give her...but I want to give her something. Perhaps I would've been enough...but now, maybe not so much. I suppose it is time to let her go now, boy—

" _ **Lady Eliesse! Lady Eliesse! Gods...someone get help! Someone find Maester Luwin!"**_

Eliesse flinched from the sudden intrusion of a man yelling in her mind. She yelped in pain from the overlay of two consciousness within her head. The stimulation was painful and something she was not use to, nor had ever encountered. She gasped inwardly...

 _...someone found her_ _ **human body**_ _._

Jon reached for the direwolf that had begun to whimper and shake its head profusely. "What is it, Ghost? To me, boy! What's the matter?" Jon reached out to steady the suddenly ailing and trembling wolf, that seemed agitated and _spooked._

" _ **What is it, lad?"**_ _A woman's voice spoke suddenly, invading Eliesse's fragile mind once more._

" _ **Old nan, please, find help! It's Lady Eliesse! I think she's having some sort of seizure, her eyes have gone white, there's sick on the floor...Gods, what has the King's news done...somebody please help!"**_ _The frantic male voice continued to yell. Eliesse felt her body be touched and moved, suddenly. She flinched at the overstimulation and concentration of balancing the two minds._

" _ **Robb, what has happened?"**_ _So it was Robb who had found the girl in her chambers. Eliesse tried to concentrate on calming her mind as she felt her core begin to tingle once more._

" _ **Father, I don't know. I—I came here to check on her, she looked terribly sick in the hall...when I came here...I found her having a seizure...she won't move!"**_ _Eliesse felt her body be tugged once more, as she assumed someone was trying to lift her from her place on the floor._

There was a deafening silence.

Eliesse opened her eyes, seeing Jon before her with a frantic look on his normally composed face. "Ghost...what is the matter, boy? I've never seen you so _scared"_ Jon tenderly stroked the wolf once more, concern washing over her brooding face for the pup. She closed her eyes again, fighting to find the sweltering tremble at her core that would free her from Ghost's body.

 _But she couldn't._

" _ **My Lord…"**_ _An old woman's voice began._ " _ **Her eyes, My Lord...I have seen these eyes in my life, many times...my Lord, the girl has changed her sk—**_

" _ **Enough. You will not speak of this. All of you...out! At once! Robb, Eliesse will be fine. The seizure shall pass...you maiden's may leave. I do not require you all…"**_ _A voice that Eliesse realizes could only belong to Ned Stark boomed. There must've been others among them._ " _ **Aye, Maester Luwin. Seal the door...where is the girl's handmaiden? Send for her at once...we three must speak in private. I shall man this door, fetch her"**_

" _ **My Gods...the girl...that is no seizure, My Lord...Seven hells...she...she is—**_ _An old man's voice trembled in fright. Eliesse recognized the frantic voice as Maester Luwin._

" _ **Not a word, Maester Luwin. To anyone. Not even my wife...no one needn't know...for if anyone finds out and word slips back to Robert...he would know...and her legitimacy be questioned when her time for reign comes in Dorne...it would thwart his plans, and risk her life...please, my Ser…"**_ _Ned whispered. Eliesse felt a tender stroke at her curls. She relished the touch at her trembling mind._

 _A door closed discreetly. Eliesse listened from within her consciousness as a lock turned, sealing the woman's body in the room. The tender touch never departed as Eliesse felt a warm, large hand rest at her head._

" _ **My lady...Eliesse...you must return before anyone else hears of your strange seizure. Please. Come back now, girl…"**_

Eliesse shook her head, opening her eyes once more and still seeing the concerned bastard before her. _Oh, Jon...I'm so sorry…_

Eliesse closed her eyes, concentrating with fury on the heat that had finally begun to fester at her core in desperation. She inhaled deeply, releasing her soul once more from the great wolf's body.

Jon felt Ghost go limp at his arm, as he frantically grabbed the pup and cradled him adoringly. "Ghost!" He shouted, as the wolf's eyes shut. He had already lost Eliesse...he couldn't lose Ghost, too. Jon felt anguish build under his skin as he stroked his pup's still face.

 _Suddenly, Ghost's eyes opened._

"Ghost...seven hells, what has gotten into you tonight? Are you ill, boy? I'll have to take you to the Kennel Keeper...Father will be cross...you are _my_ responsibility" Jon muttered, stroking the wolf gently at its nape. Ghost sat up suddenly, giving his large head a firm shake before darting off deeper into the Godswood. Jon stood abruptly, startled at the beast's sudden burst of strength. He watched peculiarly as Ghost leapt at overgrown roots and sniffled about the trees and brush as though nothing had troubled him a moment prior. Jon scratched his head curiously at the sight before him. _What in the Gods was happening tonight..._

"Jon!"

Jon turned swiftly meeting Theon Greyjoy's huffing body. What did he want...and why did he look so rigid, suddenly. "What is it, Greyjoy? I'm feeding Ghost…" Jon grumbled, dismissing the boy's frantic eyes and trembling posture. He picked up an old dead root and waved it jossingly at Ghost. The wolf eyed it predatorily, awaiting his master to throw it.

"It's Eliesse...they are saying she's had a seizure, Jon. She's unconscious"

Jon dropped the branch at once.

—

Jon's feet barely touched the frigid ground of Winterfell's courtyard as he ran swiftly. The wind whisked past his head and breath evaded his parched lips as tunnel vision besieged the bastard's senses. Jon could hear the thundering of blood behind his ear as he frantically ran as fast as his legs would take him to the dark castle.

A crisp patter of Ghost's paws behind Jon reminded him that he was not alone in this scare. He had long since left Theon Greyjoy in the eerie Godswood, much to Greyjoy's dismay. From the moment the lioness' name left Theon's thin lips, Jon had seen red.

His mind screamed irrationality at him as he imagined her olive body slack and pale with death. He slowed suddenly, the idea drawing nausea quick to his lips and hindering him from his angst. He paused, reaching the castle that seemed rigid with silence, so. Infirmary wenches and Maester's entered and drew quick from the great castle. The sight was unusual, and unsettled the bastard from where he stood.

Ghost poked his wide muzzle into the bastard's hand, drawing him back to reality from the dark place he had gone. The white pup made a strange whimpering noise, as though he was beckoning the bastard on with his eyes. "Stay" Jon whispered, patting the wolf at his great head.

Jon pushed open the castle doors quietly. The door creaked eerily as Jon observed the grand halls to be empty and basked in strange silence. Even at this hour, Winterfell's main castle was always lively and full of men and women. Some finishing their feast...others cleaning it.

But tonight, the grand walls were still.

 _The worst loomed at the bastard's mind._

Jon walked slowly, his step moist and hitting the cobblestone boldly. The sound echoed within the great halls, announcing his arrival to anyone who may have lingered. Jon approached the long corridor that housed the winding staircase of Eliesse's chambers.

Soft murmurs could be heard from the hall as whispers trickled timidly down and in the bastard's direction. Jon walked slowly, leaning into the wall to see who was standing in the dark corridor.

Lady Stark, Robb, Tyrion and Jaime Lannister stood silently at the foot of the staircase.

Jon hid behind a statue, his breath halting at the sight. His heart began to sputter as he strained tirelessly to listen to their exchange.

" _She is fine, Lord Stark...I know you worry about your...wife...to be. But my daughter is bold. She would scarcely be taken by a seizure...Thara, her maiden has assured me that this is not uncommon for the girl. Likely a sickness she obtained from her years in Dorne"_ Tyrion Lannister spoke evenly, his voice firm and lacking fear or concern. Though the dwarf seemed unbothered, Jon imagined a flint of concern and despair at his voice. He listened on, despite.

" _Besides, your father has called for no visitors of the girl. Listen to your mother, boy. Sleep. She is in good hands"_ Jaime Lannister spoke, his voice bored and dismissive of the Prince of Winterfell. " _You offend my niece and her honor. She would not want anyone whimpering over her. This is not a proper step in your marriage to come"_ Jaime chuckled darkly, the sound sending shrill up the bastard's spine.

" _I have a right to her, as my betrothed. I demand to see her"_ Robb suddenly shouted into the quiet air. Jon peered under the statue's arm, witnessing Lady Stark place a comforting hand on her son's back. Jon cringed inwardly at Robb's words.

" _Robb...I know you are worried, but your father sits with her, now. He has informed me that she is fine. Thara tends to her…"_ Lady Stark cooed, brushing away the red locks from Robb's agitated and pained eyes.

" _Why does he sit with her? It should be me, mother. I'm her husband to be—_

Jon angrily grasped at the statue, accidently tearing the stone soldier's shield from its arm. It crashed to the ground, announcing the bastard's presence to the high folk before him.

"Who goes there? Reveal yourself, at once…" Jaime Lannister spoke low, the crisp sound of metal on metal leering forth as he drew his sword in the still hall.

Jon closed his eyes in angst. _You idiot..._ he internally cursed himself. With a quick breath, Jon stepped forth from the dark statue he loomed and listened from. His breath held as the lit torches revealed his dark frame.

"Brother" Robb called in surprise, walking quickly to meet him. "You've come to check on Eliesse, I'm sure. She is well...father sits with her. Do not worry...she is in good hands" Robb embraced his brother tenderly, patting his back. Jon breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he melted into his brother's embrace. No matter the predicament he remained, Robb would always be a tender spot at his heart. The lad was truly innocent to the relationship unknown the bastard held with the lioness.

"That is good news" Jon murmured, returning his brother's embrace. "Father...sits with her. Perhaps, I...maybe, do you think I could…" Jon stammered, much aware of the eyes that loomed on him.

" _Not in your_ _ **life**_ _!"_ Catelyn Tully suddenly screeched, storming before the boy. "You are _not_ permitted to visit with the girl! You would best find yourself _far_ from this tower, bastard" She sneered, her eyes like ice for the boy. Jon lowered his sight quickly, knowing his place. He did not wish to upset his father's wife any further than his mere presence already had.

"Mother, please. Jon and Eliesse are _friends—_

"Enough! I will hear nothing of this. It is _inappropriate._ You will _leave_ , _**now!**_ " Catelyn boomed, her eyes shredding the bastard from where he stood.

Robb stared pleadingly at his mother. But she would not be moved. Jon watched as Tyrion Lannister frowned at the woman's words. Tyrion glanced up to his brother who's eyes remained low and avoiding of the bastard as well. They were ashamed of the Tully woman, but they would not thwart her authority.

Jon sighed.

He was not _new_ to this treatment. And even though it enraged the boy...he would not stir trouble for the sick girl. She deserved a peaceful rest.

 _His_ love.

"Send her my best" Jon spoke quickly, turning defeatedly from the group. Robb lowered his head, nodding quickly at his brother's request. Catelyn Stark watched satisfied at Jon's flee. She turned toward her son who looked as though he wanted to cast words at his mother, but remained silent and honorable still.

"Mother…" Robb spoke softly, his voice begging at the scorned woman. Lady Stark inhaled sharply, her anger bellowing once more within her chest. Robb sensed the intrusion and withdrew his complaint before it has escaped his pink lips.

Tyrion Lannister watched closely as Jon Snow walked ominously from the great corridor. There was despair in his shoulder that prodded at the dwarf curiously…

 _...why did he look so pained?_

—

Eliesse stirred in her deep slumber. Her body ran warm and heavy as though she were encased in hot clay. Bitterly, she fought the strange sensation and willed her mind to wake.

Her eyes fluttered, bright light registered as she blinked away the obscured blur before her.

A figure sat at her bedside.

"Here...water. Drink it" The man's voice whispered in the still chamber. Eliesse obliged, her lips trembling at the metal chalice. She drew the refreshing liquid in, lapping desperately at the comfort it gave.

"Lord Stark…" Eliesse's voice acknowledged hoarse and weakly. "What honor?"

"No honor, girl. I hear you were ill…" he muttered, ringing a wet rag from a bask at the bed. He placed it gently at the lioness' head. Eliesse closed her eyes at the sensation and relief it brought.

"Just a fainting spell. I suffer from seizures" Eliesse spoke evenly, a tremble far from her proud lip. The response was mechanic...not her own. A trained word from leering lips. _Thara's words._

"Aye...seizures...is that what they've told you to say?" Ned Stark muttered. He brushed a curl from the girl's damp forehead. Eliesse felt her breath catch at her throat from the Lord's words. _He couldn't know._

"It is what is true. I have suffered from—

"When was the first time you realized you could change your skin?" Ned suddenly interrupted, his eyes unwilling to entertain stories and folklore the woman fabricated. He had seen those eyes before… _heard the stories._ He was a northern man, true. This _ability_ was not unheard of. It was an _honor_ passed from generations...and something not readily accessible to a seeming _southerner._

 _Who_ _ **was**_ _this girl?_

"I don't know what you speak of" Eliesse spoke quickly, her voice firm and unbent. Ned Stark met her firm eyes, searching for the quiver of doubt he knew basked from within.

"You do...I seen your eyes, Ellie. You changed your skin... _changed into a beast..._ most might not know...but I do...I'll ask you again, girl. When did it first happen?"

Eliesse's lips held in defiance. She admired Lord Stark, but she didn't wish to reveal herself to him. But the way his stormy eyes bore into her...it reminded her of Jon. And suddenly, she felt at liberty to speak the truth.

"I was six. Maybe seven...I didn't know what happened, exactly...I was in the garden of Sunspear...my uncle had lectured me of my animosity towards my dear cousins...I fled into the garden to find solitude in the green, lush meadows. A butterfly basked at a rose...at first, I didn't regard it. But the way it's wings beat gently at the wind...I became mesmerized. Maybe even entranced by the beauty it bore… _I was envious_. I imagined for a moment how much I wished to be the butterfly...to draw from the earth and flutter away...and suddenly, I was afloat with summer breeze under my arm and dew at my mouth. On and on I soared, sand dune and castle I conquered...and then I heard Thara shriek and call for me. When I awoke, I had wet myself. My heart beat excitedly, calming from an ecstasy I could scarcely recall. It happened maybe twice in a name year...after my blood...it happened all the time. Sadness…happiness...shock, grief...rage...my skin was unhappy with the flesh it took. I couldn't control it. My emotions had taken strain of my senses...but slowly, I learned how to control it…master it...now, I can dream at will…" Eliesse's eyes remained stiff at the strange, fogged window. She turned quietly to Ned Stark, who listened in sincerity to the girl. "Will you tell them what I am?"

Ned watched the girl in silence, his eyes melting into a warmth the girl had never witnessed of the Lord. "Have you spoken of anyone else but Thara in the matter?" Ned asked, taking the girl's hands. His eyes held a desperation she couldn't understand, though she returned his fatherly touch.

"No. Never. Thara has told me to speak nothing of it"

"Wise woman...Eliesse...these _abilities_ are not of southerners. They are a talent of the first men…men who derive of northern blood. I don't know what this means for you, girl...but you would be wise to keep this instance quiet. I have informed any and all parties involved in your care this night to remain silent of what they witnessed...but there were other folk in here. I cannot attest to what they may or may not speak...be wary, girl. Robert...has _high hopes_ for you. I don't want to imagine what he would do if you were to disappoint" Ned spoke quietly. Eliesse sunk into the soft pelts of her bed, she glanced warily out the window. _She was caught._ Thara had warned the girl... _stupid_. She thought painfully to herself. She imagined Thara's rage when she would be permitted to see the lioness.

"Of course, my Lord. Why has his high hopes included your son...and why am I to be his wife? I deserve to know...seeing as no one had spared the thought before" Eliesse suddenly spoke, her eyes fierce on the great wolf. Ned leered back, his eyes soft and tender. It was not _like_ the great Lord.

"I have been asked to be Hand of the King...did you know that, Eliesse?" Ned pondered quietly, rising from his seat at the Dornish girl's side. Eliesse watched curiously as she shifted in silence under her pelts. She was _not_ unaware, though she wondered curtly why a man who seemed so wrapped in his family's honor would accept such a position. It would be ripping him from his sworn duty of his family.

"Of course. We celebrated it" Eliesse spoke quietly, eyeing the wolf who began to tend to the fire in the woman's chamber.

"Aye...I am to take Lord Arryn's position...you knew the man, yes?" Ned watched the woman's face twist painfully at the mention of the late hand. Eliesse felt her heart twinge in pain and despair…though she would not comment on the fact.

"Yes"

"Well, girl?"

"Very much" Eliesse felt tears pry at the corners of her golden eyes. Ned followed her gaze, peering knowingly at their grasp.

"What do you know of his _death?"_ Ned suddenly asked, his eyes fierce on the lioness like a true wolf. Eliesse stared back, her own mirroring a sadness she dared not speak of. Lord Arryn was taken of a ill that grasped him quick in the night. He writhed for days before being put out of his misery...the notion had always been peculiar to the girl, though Thara had warned her to never speak of the fact.

"Nothing. A raven from my father fluttered in on a sweltering summer night...I rode for Kings Landing the next day" Eliesse muttered quick, her voice not willing to continue through the thickness that had suddenly built.

"Had you seen the Lord prior, girl? Now is the time to speak true if ye have something to say" Ned stood from the girl's bedside slowly, his voice slick with a Warden's firmness.

He had never spoken to her in such a manner before.

 _Something was amiss._

"A moon before...Lord Tyrion called for my name day celebration in the capital...a _grand_ feast. Lord Arryn was in attendance...he seemed... _troubled._ Lord Arryn has always been a quiet but content man...and we spoke often in my time at the capitol...he mentored me. We would walk the gardens, hand in arm. He'd tell me stories of Aegon the Conqueror...The Doom of Valeryia...dragons... _Targaryens..._ no one had ever truly told me of my mother, and her family...of my aunt Elia and her husband, the Crown Prince…we...spoke of everything. Anything that mattered to me and more. But my name day…" Eliesse suddenly ran quiet, her voice drowning in the strange chill that had begun to fester in the dark room. She peered at Ned Stark from guarded eyes, her own holding a wariness that disturbed the Lord.

"What of your name day girl" Lord Stark demanded, lowering himself to meet the olive beauty's eyes. Ned's hand had run cold suddenly, memories of conversation at his chambers with Catelyn and Maester Luwin plagued his mind. _Was murder afoot? And under_ _ **Robert's watch**_ _?_

"Lord Arryn held me close and told me to be careful...that their were people around me who were unhappy with my presence…and what it meant to the common people...he believed... _I was in danger"_ Eliesse whispered, her eyes shut for fear of what they'd spell to the Lord if he met them, truly.

The room ran quiet and still once more. The only comfort came from the timid flicker of Eliesse's bedside candle which had begun to possess the Lord's shadow and draw it high upon the girl's ceiling. Eliesse observed in silence, imagining it couldn't have been more _fitting_ for the conversation at hand.

"I fear...our dear friend might have been right, my Lady" Ned finally spoke after a grueling moment. Eliesse's eyes snapped forward to the Lord, the moisture suddenly stripped from her lips.

"The King wishes for you to marry my son...he knows Robb has my blood in him...and will be fiercely loyal. He believes Robb can _persuade_ you to tell your people to _bend the knee_ in his reign. It is not unnoticed, My Lady...your people thirst for _vengeance,_ and your uncle does little to stifle their flame. Robert fears a rebellion from Dorne, under Doran's tired watch. Your people hiss your name...your _mother's_ _name._ If they see you comply, they will follow. At least, this is what Robert believes. Your culture is known, and the distaste it holds for Doran and his son is as well. When Doran perishes, Oberyn will reign before Trystane. And once Oberyn's reign ends, he will call your succession over timid Trystane for Sunspear. The people _will_ rise for you, Eliesse. Doran knows it, which is why he was so quick to cast you overseas. He does not wish to see you sit as the Lady of Sunspear over his son...your uncle Oberyn knows it, which is why you have been trained so _relentlessly_ since the time you were a child. He knew a duel would ensue some day. And the King knows it, too...I fear what will come of you once Robert garners an heir from you and my son…" Ned walked ominously to the windowsill, thrusting it forth and allowing the bitter wind to lap at his suddenly fevered skin.

Eliesse was silent, her heart had ceased all its internal fury and chaotic pondering. Cruel recognition settled in the pit of her stomach as she fought a _new_ wave of sickness that begun at her throat.

 _How could she be so_ _ **stupid**_ _?_

All along...she believed she was coming to these lands to conquer…

 _But_ _ **she**_ _was the conquest._

Groomed for duty from the moment she touched these lands...Tywin Lannister never wanted her to return to the westernlands to _learn_ the Lannister way. He never wanted her to take her place at the _honorable_ birthright. He wanted her for a _broodmare_. He had fed the King tales and fantasy of what her compliance could bring...and greedy King Robert swallowed it whole like a ripe whore and summerwine. The fat fool probably didn't realize he had been conned as well. King Robert's appetite was scarcely ever quenched for food...women... _power_. Dorne was the second largest territory besides the North... _and he knew he must have it._

But why would Tywin do this? Why feed the King _tales_? To what benefit did it bid the old lion?

Unless…

It was his plan all long...to _kill_ Lord Arryn and take his place as the King's hand. Perhaps the murderous Lord meant to _kill_ Robert as well...in due time, so _his_ blood would succeed the throne. And _he_ , would rule as the shadow behind Eliesse's unsuspecting nephews...it would wreak havoc for all.

 _Ned. You are in grave danger, if I am proven right._ Eliesse thought to herself. "Robert is in danger. You are in danger…" Eliesse whispered, sitting up in her bed. Her eyes bore desperately into the great wolf as he met her eyes curiously once more. Without a word spared between the pair, a common recognition was achieved. Words didn't need to be wasted anymore.

"Aye...you needn't worry of me...but I suspect Robert is in danger. Lord Arryn's wife wrote Catelyn, her sister, speaking of the Lannister's treachery. _Murder_. She is afraid for her life...I worry Robert is next on their list...I have agreed to go south, _only_ to investigate Lord Arryn's death in secret…and hopefully protect my dear brother. Robert...is not a _bad_ man, Eliesse. But I fear what years of having the Lannister's whisper at his ear might've done to his stubborn head. I must go to learn the truth" Ned spoke evenly, eyeing the girl who had gone rigid. Eliesse bit her lip, angst seeping wildly throughout her body.

"And me. What of me? I am to marry your son...and play right into Robert's hand…into _Tywin's…"_

"You will remain here, girl. You are the Queen in this game of chess. Without you, Dorne is lost in Robert— _Tywin's_ hand. But I will delay your marriage to Robb" Ned suddenly spoke, shutting the tapestry at once. The sound silenced Eliesse from where she sat, her mind slack in shock.

" _What?"_ Eliesse whispered, not quite believing what the Lord has said. Her heart began to thunder at her rib once more. _What did he mean?_

"If you marry Robb, the King will expect an heir within a year, and Dorne's compliance more sooner. We will be giving Tywin _exactly_ what he seeks. But if you remain Robb's _betrothed,_ it will give me time to uncover the truth...and cancel your marriage. Eliesse...you are a strong, _fierce_ woman. Robert, Tywin...they are right about your influence on Dorne. And your homeland _needs_ you. Alive. I will do whatever it takes to send you home, girl. But I need time. Remain here in Winterfell as Robb's betrothed. I will delay the marriage for as long as I can while I search for the truth in Kingslanding. When I am close, or find enough purpose to bring the Lannisters before a trial, I will send a raven to forbade the marriage and requesting your immediate release and return of Dorne...as you were _kidnapped_ from your lands in a plot to gain power. Robert will be cross...but once he sees that _this_ entire ploy was a scheme to eventually overthrow him as King...that they... _killed_ our dear friend in an effort to eventually get to _him_...justice will be served" Ned retrieved his furs from the brim chair that lay askew at Eliesse's bedside.

"What about Robb? He will be hurt...once he learns that I am only hear in asylum...he deserves…so much more than—

"Robb is my son. I will not have him take a vow that was created on the premise of _murder_ and seeking of _power. One day...he will understand"_ Ned spoke softly, his eyes hard but assuring of the girl.

"How long...how long am I to stay here?"

"As long as it takes me to uncover the truth. I will send a raven when I can uncover an instance of treason...when that raven comes, you are free...but you have always been free, girl. This is the only way _I_ can keep you safe. And I will do my part in protecting you, as Lord Arryn had done for me many years ago when a King requested _my_ presence...but if you leave here...I cannot guarantee your safety. And Robert will likely lose his mind and deem you a fugitive... _treason_ , he will call it. I won't raise my banners to hunt you down, Eliesse. But I can't say the same for my clouded brother. When Robert wants someone's head...he does _anything_ to get it. I pray you won't let it come to that. Now rest, girl…

... _winter is coming"._

—

Eliesse lay silent in her bed as her chamber fire crackled timidly. She listened to the soft tremble, attempting to find some comfort in its sound. Sleep evaded the girl as she recalled Ned Stark's heeds earlier in the night. She turned in her furs, hugging her pillow tighter. _Winter was coming._

Thara had turned in for the night, worry creasing the woman's face as she told her of own conversation with the Warden. " _He means to protect you Eliesse...do not make it difficult for him. If he is correct, Robert would_ _ **kill**_ _you if you ran away or thwarted his plan. Lord Stark's plan to keep you betrothed but not married is a fine solution to this notion of Robert wanting you and Robb for an heir…"_

" _What about Jon? He could be in danger too…" Eliesse whispered quietly, unsure if curious ears lurked at her chamber door._

" _More danger with you around...Lady Stark wants him gone to the wall. She won't allow him to remain if Lord Stark is not here…" Thara rose from the bed where she advised the girl. She began to fold Eliesse's clothes into drawers and chests. The Dornish girl cringed inwardly at the gesture; she_ _ **truly**_ _wasn't leaving here._

" _Then I will go with him...I won't leave his side. And if I can't go, I will run away. I won't be away from him. Not again. Five years was too long, I love— Eliesse sat up angrily in her bed, her eyes wild and ablaze as she grimaced through threatening sorrow. Thara glanced at her sadly, mirroring the young woman's pain and frustration. She knew this feeling, well._

" _And where will we go?" She whispered quietly. "Because I will not leave your side...someone has to keep you in order and I fear the bastard does not have the heart for it. You will send him to an early grave with that Dornish spirit of yours" Thara chuckled quietly, coming to join the girl at her bedside. She raised a russet hand and stroked the woman's adoringly. Her heart quivered at Eliesse's beautiful face; she truly resembled Eliessia Martell with that angry scowl._

" _Pentos. Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen live. Lord Arryn told me...the King has spies on them...I want to bring them back here...somehow...I need to get Robert off that throne and the Lannisters, too…" Eliesse fell back into her pillows with a huff of frustration. She gazed upon the canopy of her bed tiredly with exhaustion creeping slowly at her mind._

" _Your dreams are vivid, my flower. Sleep. We will speak of what our next move is in the morn…" Thara slowly drew the heavy furs up to Eliesse's chest. She patted them in securely, and blew out the girl's bedside candle. "I will return tomorrow...sleep well...no running away" she gave Eliesse a lasting curt smile before departing the chamber. Eliesse sighed deeply and rolled over once more._

A soft tremor of Eliesse's chamber door grasped her from her mind. She turned over quickly, reaching for the bedside knife that lay askew. Slowly, the door lurched as it drew forth shyly.

"Who is there" Eliesse demanded, pulling from the sheets of her bed.

Dark hair entered the room slowly, as the person placed a finger at their lip, begging the girl to quiet.

"Jon" Eliesse breathed in relief as she threw herself from the bed. She thought she'd never see the bastard again.

Eliesse crossed the room in merely a few strides as she threw her arms around Jon in desperation. "Oh, Jon...my love...I was so scared I wouldn't see you…" she murmured into the young wolf's chest as she snuggled her face against the cold of his tunic. He must've been outside for quite some time.

"Are you okay? They said you fainted...I tried to come earlier but...Lady Stark...I was not allowed" Jon finished, lifting the girl's chin to gaze upon her olive face. Nothing seemed to be out of place... _at least nothing he could see_.

"I'm fine...I... _fainted_...at least, that's what I _told_ people...but it is not true. I...I changed my skin, Jon. I can...I can change my skin" Eliesse breathed quietly, stepping from the bastard's embrace to gaze curiously upon his face. She searched for a flicker of deceit or bewilderment in what she'd said. Jon didn't say anything...he just gazed at her curiously... _confused._

"You _changed your skin?_ Eliesse…" he muttered, quiet and unsure if the girl was actually ill. "You need rest...you must've hit your head—

"Stop that. Stop it _at once._ Do not speak to me like I am crazy...I know it sounds like... _madness_...but I can. And I do. I...put my mind into Ghost. I was him. In the woods with you last night" Eliesse's eyes bore sternly into Jon's own as he looked at her as though she had gone mad. _It wouldn't trouble him, if she had._ He'd still love her all the same.

"Eliesse…"

"Where is my ring? The one you made for me and showed Ghost? You were going to ask me to marry you on the dawn we left here" She suddenly spoke, her body straight and firm. Her eyes did not waiver or fall from Jon's brooding stare that had suddenly widened. "Well? Where is it, Snow? I want my damn ring. Give it here, boy"

"How— Jon felt his breath halt in his throat as he fought through a trembling breath to find his word. _How did she know this?_ She couldn't...but then how…

"The fact that I even have to _ask_ is so ungentleman-like. I guess it is _too much_ for a lady to ask for her man to _bend the knee_ for _this._ Well? Stop staring at me like I've gone mad. You are the _mad_ one to come into my chambers at this indecent hour and _not_ have my ring" Eliesse crossed her arms over her breast as she cocked her head jossingly at the boy. Jon's mouth hung agape as he tried to figure out _what_ to say to the woman.

 _She...changed her skin._

"Eliesse. I—yes, I had a ring made for you. But...I cannot give it to you. You are my brother's wife to be—

"Stop it! I am _not. I will_ _ **not**_ _marry him!"_ Eliesse suddenly shouted, her anger threatening to reveal Jon's presence in her chambers.

"You do not have a choice, it is the King's request"

" _Fuck the fat King!"_ Eliesse suddenly stormed to Jon's foot and grabbed his tunic. "I won't marry, Robb. I won't. I won't, I won't, _I won't!"_ Without another word she forced Jon to her lips and pressed herself into his cold frame that had suddenly went rigid. She protested when he did not return her gesture with the same urgency. She retracted and peered up at Jon who stood still and brooding upon her face. His stormy gaze held pain she didn't wish to fathom.

"Eliesse...we can't. _I_ can't...you are Robb's" He whispered, backing away slowly from the girl. Eliesse felt her heart drop at the sight. _No…don't Jon, please…_

"I am _yours..._ I always have been...I always _will be_. If you won't have me, then it is no one" she whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow that was sure to spill. She took a step towards Jon, closing the distance he tried to make. "I love you. _I love you._ I always have, I always will...we will run away...our plan still stands...you promised me" Eliesse cried softly, reaching for Jon's face. "Have me. Have _all_ of me. Please. I'm giving myself to you" she pressed her lips shakily to the bastard's cold ones once more, wetting his face with agonizing tears.

Jon inhaled sharply at the kiss, his hands weak and shaking at his side. _Gods, how she tasted so good. His brother's wife...felt so good. He loved his brother's wife…he wanted_ _to_ _ **fuck**_ _his brother's wife._ Jon gasped at the indecent thought, grabbing Eliesse arms and pulling her from his body. He couldn't handle this. He couldn't handle _her._ If she kept this up, he'd take her right that second on the floor of her chambers. "Ellie, stop it. I can't...we can't...you know I want you, that love you _so dearly_...but I can't do that to Robb...he _believes_ you are _his"_

"Do you believe that, Snow? Do you believe I am, Robb's? Do you want him to be the one to share my bed... _to have me?"_ Eliesse whispered dangerously, lifting her hands once more to the bastard's now _fevered_ body. She bit her lip lustfully and reached up on the tips of her toes to press another gentle kiss to Jon's lips. "I know you don't...and I know you love me. Talk to him. _Tell Robb._ He will call this whole thing off...he loves you. If he knew... _he would never_. Perhaps it is time to say something, Jon…" Eliesse stared pleadingly into Jon's grey eyes, her own holding the same sadness his held. "Your father has told me that I am to be his _betrothed._ He doesn't wish to see us marry...he...thinks King Robert has been conned into marrying me off. Fed lies...by the _Lannisters...Tywin Lannister._ He believes Lord Arryn was murdered...and he is going to Kingslanding to search for the truth. Once he finds enough evidence...he will send for my release and return to Dorne. Don't you see, Jon? I am not your brother's...this is simply a plan to keep me here, safe. He believes I'm in danger. If I stay here, and remain betrothed to Robb for the time being, I will be safe. But I cannot...we cannot have any _incidents._ If I become pregnant...they'll know. _Robb_ will know. And you will be punished severely...and I don't know what they'd do to me. But Jon, we don't have to stay...we can _leave._ And then we'd be free to do as we please. We can have _many_ babies then. Many feral pups..."

Jon stared bewildered at the girl, his heart suddenly quickening at Eliesse's revelation. All of her words spent and the only thing the bastard could hear was " _I'm in danger"._ "I won't leave. I won't take the Black if you are in danger, woman" Jon suddenly spoke, grabbing Eliesse's arm aggressively. She flinched inwardly, taken aback by his sudden explosion.

"Lady Stark means to send you to the wall…" Eliesse whispered. "That is why we must _run"_

"No...running will only grant you as a fugitive...you'll be hunted for treason" Jon spoke, eyeing the girl sternly. "We won't run. _You won't"_

"Then what in the Gods are we to do" Eliesse demanded, her eyes harsh on the bastard who still had a grip on her arm. Jon looked down and away from the girl, his mind a fury of thoughts.

He paused.

His eyes met the girl's once more.

"I'm taking you with me. To Castle Black"

"You're mad" Eliesse scoffed, grabbing her arm back from the bastard who looked suddenly wild. His eyes darkened on the girl once more, a glimmer of desire flashed in his eyes as he retrieved her once more. Eliesse gasped at the _roughness_ he drew at her. His hold was _much_ fiercer than before.

"No. I'm not. I'm angry, and sad. And I want you. Now" He growled low, pushing the girl roughly onto the bed.

Eliesse yelped quietly at Jon's sudden aggression. He looked wild with desire, his eyes dark and greedily lapping in the sight of the girl basked only in a thin, white nightdress. His mind drifted to Eliesse's desperate advances on his not too long ago, _how she begged for him..._ and declared herself _his._

That's all he's ever wanted, _really. Just her._

Jon felt himself harden instantly at the sight of the girl. She looked frightened but _excited_. She wanted this too.

No.

She _needed_ it. They both needed this _release._

"I see you've changed your mind. What was it? The thought of Robb on top of me?" Eliesse spoke breathlessly, watching as Jon tore his shirt off and next his pants. She gazed desperately over the bastard's rippled chest and core, and under clothes that he had suddenly begun to take off.

She felt herself squirm with wet as Jon withdrew himself from the thin cloth he wore, revealing himself in all his glory and _length._ "Stop talking" he demanded darkly, grabbing Eliesse by her trembling legs. He thrust her to the end of the bed, tearing her nightdress up the middle in one fluid motion. "Beautiful devil...you know that? You are...everything. _My_ everything" he muttered low at the girl's throat that he had begun to suck on. Eliesse bit her lip, a cheeky smile dawning her plump lips.

"Is that so?" She half moaned, her nails suddenly digging desperately at the sheets of her bed.

"You deny it" It was not a question. Jon raised himself abruptly, his eyes sharp on the girl who suddenly looked flush with _want_. He loved it. He loved that only _he_ could bring that docile, _submissive_ side out of the usually proud, demanding girl.

But she was _not_ being submissive, right now.

It irritated the wolf.

Without a warning, Jon thrust himself into the hot swells of Eliesse's femininity. She gasped, realizing Jon had lost his breath too. They stared at each other in mild shock and relief of the feeling. And though they had stolen so much of this sensation of one another already, it always felt like the first time whenever they began.

Jon eyes searched over the girl's own as he attempted to find any inkling of disagreement. But Eliesse did not show it. Instead he found _lust and longing._ "I love you" she suddenly breathed, feeling herself finally adjust to the bastard's abrupt intrusion.

"I know" he muttered darkly, a smirk of banter on his lips for the Dornish girl who had taunted him first. He withdrew slowly, earning a delicious cry of protest from Eliesse. He obliged her cry and pushed back in, _roughly._ Eliesse nearly jumped from the bed and into the boy's arm from the sudden rush of pleasure and pain. She moaned his name desperately, her hands rushing to his chest were she bit her nails into hot, sweaty flesh.

Jon grabbed the girl's leg, raising it slightly so he could invade her deeper. Slowly, he withdrew and drew again, each thrust becoming harder than the last and more erratic. "Say it" he whispered at her ear as he lay siege to the girl's insides and throat.

"Say w..what" Eliesse could scarcely find her voice through her cries of pleasure. She held onto Jon for dear life as the wolf lost all sense of rhythm and pace. It was like he was inside his own mind, _frantic_ to achieve something only he knew. Eliesse drew his head from her throat that he had been biting and sucking on. She met his gaze that was dark and daring. _It excited her._ She crushed her lips to his, wrapping her only free leg around the boy's waist to draw him closer and deeper within her. Jon groaned at the gesture, squeezing the leg he held roughly. It would surely bruise…

"Say your mine" He panted, pressing his forehead to the girl's as he continued to thrust.

"I'm yours" Eliesse obliged, moaning her submission into the bastard's mouth. Jon gripped the girl tighter, his pace never slowing. He wasn't satisfied. _That wasn't good enough._

"Say it. Again" He pushed harder into the girl, earning a yelp of pain and delight. Eliesse's mind screamed in agreement and protest as she wondered if he would split the girl in half at his fury.

"I'm yours" she gasped.

"Again" he growled. "Say your mine. Say it, Ellie. _Please._ Tell me your mine" Jon sounded desperate, almost sad at the girl's ear. Eliesse grasped his face tenderly between her shaking hands as she searched his eyes firmly.

"I'm yours Jon Snow. I'm yours forever. I love you... _so much"_ she whispered against his lips as she kissed them adoringly. Jon groaned into the kiss, satisfied finally at her words. His hips met hers once more as he lost all pace again.

Their breathless moans increased and cut the still night as Jon felt his release build. Eliesse felt it too as she gripped the bed sheets desperately, her back arched and lips parted. "Oh, Jon...Oh, Gods…" she cried in pleasure as she felt herself explode at Jon's fury. Her body pulsed and womanhood throbbed frantically as Jon did not cease or slow his pace. She began to moan uncontrollably, her voice rising above the silence in the tower. Surely someone would hear her if they were lurking the dark halls…

Jon quickly sealed his lips over the girl's as he swallowed her desperate cries. He felt himself coming undone at the sight of her writhing. His pace quickened as he found himself chasing her pleasure and relishing the feeling it gave him to have her slick walls tighten on him. With a pause, he grabbed himself and drew out of the girl just in time to spill his seed on the bed. Even through all his madness and desperation for the Dornish girl, he remembered her warnings of pregnancy.

He closed his eyes in relief, as he milked his pleasure dry. He collapsed on the Dornish girl, relishing the thirst he could never quite quench. He leaned up on his arms, meeting the girl's lips lazily for a passionate kiss.

"You'll _always_ be mine, girl".

—

A/N: Hi guys! I first and foremost want to say thank you to all you amazing readers. I read _every_ review, good, bad, kind, _mean,_ and I want you all to know I **appreciate** _all_ of them so much. Not only does it help me write a better story for you guys, it shows me how _invested_ so many of you all are in this story and how much you love this character I've created.

I want to address the concern regarding the plot of this story and where it's going. I am much aware of the many stories on this site that somehow use Robb Stark as a ploy or prop for the protagonist. And yes, sometimes she marries him and falls in love, blah blah blah. Guess what? _I hate those stories too!_ Lol. I find it to be a slap in the face to Jon and the purpose of writing an ark in his honor —my opinion. Without giving way to my own story, this won't be a theme. And that's all I will say! Lol, can't give away too much!

Some of the best fictions I have read are the ones that stay true to the original author's theme. In this case, I believe it not only _imperative_ but crucial to stay true to GRRM's theme of angst, shock, tragedy and plot twist. It helps the story be more authentic to the original craft...a craft that _clearly_ we all love so much to continue to write about. This is Game of Thrones guys! Crazy stuff is _bound_ to happen. And no—I'm not going to kill Eliesse. Lol.

So thank you to you all for really loving this story so much that it's making some of you want to pull your hair out or slap me through the screen, lol. It means _everything_ to me to write something for you all that is both addicting and _heartbreaking._ I hope you all stick around for this crazy ride...cause it's about to get wild. Cheers.

~RL


	12. Chapter 12

A soft rap came across the heavy, oak door of Eliesse's chamber.

Eliesse sat up in the bed in haste, her heart wild with fright and angst as she stared doomingly at the great door. Her breath that had been so gentle while she slumbered had suddenly begun to flee the Dornish girl's lips in a desperate attempt to evade the inevitable that loomed on the other side of her door.

It opened quietly, a soft creak sending frantic shrill up the girl's spine. "My flower, have you awaken?" Thara.

Eliesse's turned swiftly to her side, her hand grasping desperately at the sheet that would surely be wrapped around a naked and resting bastard boy.

 _But he was not there_.

Eliesse's released the angst that hid doubtlessly within her chest. She turned calmly back to the handmaiden who greeted her with a tender smile and tray of food. Sweet bread and porridge; the girl's favorite. "I thought you'd like to break your fast in privacy after such a... _turbulent_ night. Come, sweet—whilst it is still hot".

Thara placed the tray at Eliesse's bedside table and began to pull the sheets away from the girl. Her hand brushed a strange wetness at the sheet that was oddly set at the edge of the girl's bed. The handmaiden made no motion or allowed a flicker of her surprise to wash across her russet face, _despite_ her curiosity at the strange spot. Perhaps the girl had wet herself in the night after the frustrating and worrisome events that'd passed. But as Thara drew the sheets farther away and revealed that the lioness was bare and her leg peculiarly red and tender, she premised the worst.

 _Jon had been here._

Still, Thara remained quiet. She did not wish to upset or accuse the Dornish girl after such a invading night already. And if the sheet was wet, perhaps it could mean the girl heeded some of the woman's word and warned the boy of his wandering seed.

She tore the sheet away and rolled it up quickly. _She didn't want any other servant wenches to find the damp blanket that smelt of a man._

"Perhaps, I could have a bath first" Eliesse muttered quietly, standing from the bed. She watched Thara curiously as the woman tucked her linens _deep_ into the woven basket she'd use for the woman's dirty clothes. _She must've known._ Thara was no fool, and not an _inexperienced woman._ Eliesse was sure she had had her fair share of changing _wet sheets_ and oddly smelling linen while serving in Sunspear.

 _Especially with uncle Oberyn around._

Eliesse shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other, feeling the familiar wet of the bastard and herself between her legs. She pondered for a moment if Jon had actually remembered her warnings... _I'm sure he did. I will ask of him to be sure..._ she thought quietly to herself. She winced silently at the throbbing pain upon her upper, left thigh that Jon had been holding _too roughly_ last night. The sensation both aggravated and excited her. She would be sure to pay the greedy wolf back somehow.

"Of course, my flower. I will prepare it now, eat a little for now" Thara spoke gently once more, disappearing into the woman's bath chamber. Eliesse peered timidly around the to ensure the Dornish woman was busy at her task at hand. And sure enough she was; Thara had begun to warm fresh water and drop familiar oils and scents into the modest tub.

Eliesse turned curtly to her bed, something catching her eye whilst the handmaiden had worked silently around her moments before. She glanced underneath a soft pillow that had rested Jon's head only a few hours before. _A small parchment with a note written upon it._

Eliesse peered quietly from the bed, watching Thara run her hands in and about the water in the tub. She was likely checking it's temperature and making sure it was hot enough for the lioness. She knew the girl loved her baths to be as _scalding_ as the Dorne heat itself.

 _Perhaps it reminded her of home and elicited necessary comfort._

Eliesse opened the small paper quietly, her eyes fluttering up every so often to check on Thara's whereabouts within the chamber. When she was satisfied that the woman was heavily preoccupied, she began to unfold the small letter and read its contents.

" _I wanted to make sure I left before the castle became busy with servants, handmaids and wenches preparing the mornings feasts and stalking in and out of chambers for upkeep. Sleep well, Ellie. Come and find me in the Godswood after you have broke your fast. Jon."_

Eliesse felt her heart flutter at the boy's messy scrawl. She cursed herself for the childish feeling... _she hated how he could do this to her so simply._ No matter how much she tried to disregard the boy's smile and word at her, she couldn't deny the weakness and internal fury it'd spark within.

"Your bath is ready, my flower" Thara's voice pierced the girl's fantasy of the bastard boy, bringing her back to the reality she stood from. Eliesse quickly tucked the note away into her bedside table before the woman entered the room.

"Thank you, Thara" Eliesse smiled innocently, her step as confident as she could muster despite the internal jittering she had been doing since finding Jon's note.

Eliesse crept slow to the tub. The smell of lavender tickled her nose pleasantly as she relished in the heat that radiated gently from the tub. Timidly, she placed a foot inside, Thara holding the small of her back and hand to assist her. She sunk low into the sweltering waters, relishing the heat that swallowed her inch by inch across her curving body. She sat in relief, her breath finally free to leave. The water provided a necessary soothe she didn't realize she required after last night's _activities_ with the very _dominant_ bastard boy.

Thara took a pail and placed a moderate amount of bath water within it. Slowly she drew it over Eliesse's hair, watching as the girl closed her eyes at the relaxing sensation it bore. "The water is not too hot?" Thara questioned quietly. Eliesse shook her head with her eyes still shut in content.

"It is perfect, thank you Thara" she spoke softly. She wondered if Thara was pondering the woman's wet sheets...or had seen the strange, red bruise that resembled much a man's handprint. She wondered...if the handmaid suspected _Jon._ Her eyes opened in a shimmer on anxiety. "Should we speak more of...what is to come?" Eliesse whispered as quiet as her trembling voice would permit. She turned in the tub, her eyes pleading of Thara to forgive what the woman _surely_ knew. _Yes, he was here, Thara...I'm sorry for not heeding you._

Thara met he girl's eyes softly, concern swimming within her warm, brown pools. She knew. And she couldn't truly blame the girl...she was _in love_. No matter what the handmaid spoke of concern to her...or _any_ person would've said in advice of the girl...she would do what she wished—what she _needed,_ and felt what was _right._

And Thara feared it would get them all killed.

"You wish to run. With Jon...I don't believe that is a good path to take, Eliesse" Thara spoke quietly, brushing through the girl's slick, golden locks.

Eliesse chewed her plump, red lip in frustration. This life...this circumstance. Was a game of chest and Eliesse was the _queen_. Running would get them killed, King Robert would raise his banners and hunt the woman down for _treason_. No where would be safe in Westeros...she'd have to flee to Essos. But what was the point of fleeing to Essos _without_ an army to bring the Targaryen children _back?_ Instead of two fugitives, there would be four.

 _Two Targaryens, a Snow and Lannister._

But if she remained in Westeros and heeded Lord Stark's word, she would be safe. She would remain Robb's betrothed and be basked in safety...until Ned sent word for her to be _released_ from the north. She was sure her grandfather would seek _some_ retribution for thwarting his plans and generating a trial against his house and children…

Children... _Tyrion..._ the girl's father... _did he have some hand in this treachery?_ Perhaps this is why he evaded the girl so diligently…

So she would stay. Winterfell under Ned Stark's wife and son's watch was a safe haven...but Lady Stark would not allow Jon Snow to remain here whilst his father was south. The pleasantries—if _any_ —would cease once Lord Stark rose south.

 _So it was the Wall_ _then for the bastard…_

"I won't run...and I won't leave Jon" Eliesse spoke finally after a grueling moment of silence. The sound of bath water falling against her skin and into the body of water as Thara rinsed her, echoed ominously in the still chamber.

"Then what will you do, my flower? Follow him?" Thara chuckled slightly, though the gesture did not reach her eyes. She glanced around to peer at the lioness' eyes that were focused and firm. The fleeting smile dissipated from her russet face at once.

 _She_ _ **did**_ _mean to follow him._

"I will...ask Robb, if I could tour the northern wall. He knows how little I've seen of this country while under _Tywin's_ watch. I always tell him my love for travel and adventure. I will request a small Guard to escort me north...for a short time. As Lady Stark coming, and the wife to be of the future Warden of the North, I'm sure Castle Black will honor the visit. Besides...I'm _still_ a Lannister. Our pockets are deep...I will _pay_ my fucking way into that castle if I have to. I can't leave Jon. I will try and buy us some time...with travel...and stay...possibly a moon we will be guests of the north. Hopefully that will give Ned some time to uncover _something...anything_ to bring Tywin Lannister before the Royal Court" Eliesse spoke reassuringly, her eyes pleading for confirmation of her trusted handmaiden. Thara stared wildly at the girl like Eliesse had watched Jon the night before when _he_ spoke of this plan to bring her with him to the Wall.

 _Kidnapping..._ Eliesse scoffed in her mind. _A tour_ sounds a bit more civilized and might keep the pair alive longer.

"...Eliesse, this plan...is...uncertain. Do you think Robb and Lady Stark would even grant you leave? It is _unlike_ a lady to travel without her _betrothed._ They may suggest Robb to follow you. A goodwill trip to Castle Black to introduce the coming Lady and Lord Stark to be" Thara rose from her stool at the woman's bathside. She retrieved the girl's robe from a counter top. Eliesse rose quietly when the woman returned to her.

"Robb can not afford to leave. With his father gone, he will ascend to Lord of Winterfell. He must learn a Lord's duties...I'm sure Lady Stark, he and the Maesters will be busy organizing the castle affairs and ensuring an organized passing of responsibility to Robb eventually...Lady Stark will still head the duties and castle responsibilities...but I'm sure Robb will eventually lead. Besides...I'm a _Lannister,_ by birth right, I hold a seat to the wealthiest, most honorable and _powerful_ House in the Seven Kingdoms. Lady Stark won't want to _screw up_ her chances of marrying her son to such a family. They will give me my leave...what I'm requesting is _noble._ They will be happy to know that I am taking my future title seriously and wanting to become accustomed to their northern lands. I'm sure of it". Eliesse rose from the bath, allowing Thara to wrap her slick frame in plush linen.

"Robb will not wish for you to be away for so long...if what I witness holds true...the young wolf admires you very much...and I'm sure this _delay_ in your marriage his father has ordered will only grow him impatient. He will surely be writing every day to his father in the south...what _has_ Lord Stark deemed the purpose for this delay?" Thara questioned while she pulled fine silks from a chest. She chose a navy blue velvet dress, with long billowing sleeves and a bodice that was almost _too_ prude. Eliesse scrunched her nose inwardly at the sight of the stifling dressings...though she knew the reason behind the choice.

She was a spoken for lady now. There would be no more slinky, sheer dresses of fine Dornish silk to flaunt in Winterfell _._ Her body and the glory it bore was for Robb Stark now…

 _At least, in theory. Eliesse was truly_ _ **all**_ _Jon's._

Still, the lioness scoffed at the premise. She was a Martell and a Lannister. _And she would wear as she pleased._

Thara helped the girl into the dress, pulling it smoothly over the woman's olive flesh and tightening the corset strings. Eliesse turned to the Dornish handmaid once the strings were fastened comfortably. She glanced down, her eyes heavy with a sadness she didn't wish to acknowledge. "I...asked if he could delay the wedding...so word could be sent to my uncle Oberyn. I would wish for _him_ to give me away. It will take time for a letter to reach Dorne…and time again for it to return. The journey north from Dorne would take well over a moon...maybe even two...they would have to sail from Sunspear to White Harbor...it buys us a convenient amount of time" Eliesse's eyes rose proudly, all sadness dissipating from them and being replaced with the confidence of a true lion; a true _Lannister_. Thara pressed her lips into a thin line at the notion, her usually rhythmic heart losing its balance.

 _Oberyn…_

"You have thought this through well, my flower. I suppose the only task left is to speak with young Robb…Perhaps, if the boy knew the _truth_ behind your betrothal...he would be more privied to oblige your request. I do not foresee the boy becoming cross at learning the truth behind your delay in marriage. If he knew _his father_ was investigating conspiracies against the Crown...and that _you_ were part of a greater elaborate scheme..." Thara spoke gently, her eyes searching the lioness for affirmation and approval. But the girl looked away, her eyes firm and unmoving. She disagreed.

"No. We... _Jon_ and I decided it would be best to keep Robb in the dark. Robb...is much like his father when honor is mentioned. If he knew he _too_ were a ploy in _Tywin's_ game...he'd call off the marriage himself...no matter what his mother or father spoke. My honor...and what is right to do by it...would be most important to the boy. He would feel it is his duty to liberate me...I fear he'd raise his banners against the Lannisters, once he is officiated as Lord of Winterfell—which would mean against King Robert. This whole marriage was Robert's doing...if Robb refuses on the premise that it is a marriage built to obtain power...and him and I only a use for producing an heir and eliciting generational compliance in the King's reign...it would not end well. Robb having knowledge would put him indirectly in danger, for what he would feel obligated to do with it. It is best he remains in the dark" Eliesse spoke firmly, her eyes bidding a silent request to Thara.

Thara nodded silently. The lioness was right, though she didn't wish to agree upon it. It was clear the woman and her love had spoken relentlessly of the matter. They had crossed every bridge, pondered every solution. Though Thara wouldn't admit to the young girl that she didn't quite believe Robb Stark, let alone the man's _mother_ would agree to such a request as a northern tour. She kept her resonations to herself. She didn't wish to upset the Dornish girl any further than her predicament likely had.

"Of course, my flower" She spoke gently, no hindering of doubt prevalent at her lips. "Come, you are dressed for the day".

—

Eliesse walked briskly down her chamber doors, listening to every step that remarked a soft patter at her shoes. She could vaguely hear the bustle of Winterfell's morning feet. Wenches, kitchen maidens and servants could be heard talking amorously of the night before. It was true, King Robert's announcement had elicited a grand celebration that trickled deep into the early mornings. Eliesse frowned at the notion; she wondered how many had heard of her little _seizure,_ as well _._

Eliesse stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes suddenly alert at what stood before her so bluntly.

 _Robb_.

"Good morning, my Lady...I'm sorry if I've startled you. I've been waiting all morning...I mean, last night when I found you _sick,_ I wanted to be there with you but my father suggested rest would be the best priority for you...I'm sorry if that disappoints you...seeing as...well...we are bet— _well,_ that you and I...you are my…" Robb began to stammer, his weight shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. It was an unbecoming sight for the usually firm and clever boy. His normally pale face had begun to turn a peculiar shade of pink at the apples of his cheek. _He was embarrassed._ Eliesse frowned at the site. She felt bad for the usually confident young prince.

"It is alright, Robb. I am well...your father has seen to my care around the clock by Maesters. I am feeling much better, thank you…" Eliesse stood still before the boy, her eyes dropping curiously to the large grey cloak adorned with white wolf fur in his hand. "What else brings you to my chamber, My Lord?" She questioned lightly, trying her best to accompany her monotone word with a friendly smile.

 _She did not forget their last interaction._ And though the woman now knew Robb was not to blame for the recent news, she couldn't help but still feel resentful for a predicament she wanted so direly not.

Robb followed the lioness' eyes that resides on the heavy furs within his arm. "Oh, my Lady...I was hoping we could go for a ride outside of Winterfell's gates...perhaps to the forest. To speak in private of...last night's announcement. I noticed you were quite... _disturbed_ by the news. I wanted to get a chance to speak to you about your feelings...and maybe, if you would do me the honor of hearing mine...I, uh...brought you my best cloak. I noticed yours are still a little skimmish...but I suppose _now_ I can get the castle seamstress to make your something more suitable for the north" the young wolf met Eliesse's eyes warily as they searched for glimmer of approval that he so desperately craved, it would seem. She cringed at his last words but bid no noticeable quiver at it.

 _Jon...he's awaiting me in the Godswood…_

"Of course, my Lord. Thank you for your kindness" Eliesse muttered. She reached for the cloak, but Robb withdrew immediately.

"Please, allow me…" He walked quietly behind the lioness, unraveling the cloak. Eliesse stood still, her eyes forward and much aware of the kitchen wenches and servants who had begun to pool in the corners of the castle and pay her curious stares. She glared ominously at them, her nostrils flaring in irritation. If they wanted something to look at, she would surely provide it...a few maidens caught her warning glance and dissipated immediately. Eliesse pondered if they were watching her because she was the new Lady of Winterfell to come…

...or if they'd heard whispers of what happened the night before.

The heavy furs fumbled over her shoulders as Robb walked in front of her to fasten the strings. "It's a little big...but it'll suit you and serve its purpose" he smiled politely, stepping back to observe the woman. Eliesse saw a flicker of affection flash in his eyes as he looked her over adoringly in his dressings. He must've felt smitten at the sight of her in Stark colors.

She looked away from his tender gaze. _She was not a Stark and she never would be._

"Alright then, let us be on our way" Eliesse quickly spoke, marching ahead of the young wolf. Robb flinched at her eagerness but swept the notion aside. He smiled as he quickened his pace to meet the Dornish girl. He extended his arm to her with another polite smile. Eliesse smiled graciously and took it, though a sinking feeling had begun to brew in the pit of her stomach.

—

The northern air rushed through Eliesse's hair as she thrashed Snow's reigns onward, earning a excited gallop from the steed. She laughed happily, the feeling genuine and honest as her adrenaline spiked while she ventured aggressively through the winding woods. She glanced behind her to Robb Stark who was hot on her heels with a mirroring toothy smile and hearty laugh.

This was nice; she enjoyed these moments with Robb. During all her time in Winterfell as now a young woman and before a younger girl, Robb had always bid her good banter and jest. They had built a strong friendship on their competitiveness and yearn for adventure those past years.

But Robb looked at her differently. Yes, it was true that the young wolf always sort of _admired_ the beauty. Perhaps it was the fact that she was unlike any maiden he'd met before. She was _brave_ , witty, fierce...and could handle a sword better than he, Jon or even Greyjoy. She was truly a sight...and in the five years that had passed, she had only blossomed into a greater masterpiece.

The wolf couldn't _help_ falling so deeply in infatuation for her.

They could rule the north with an iron fist. Both Robb and Eliesse were fierce and strong...and their children would be even mightier...Robb fantasized this relentlessly since the King had made his announcement that they would be wed. He imagined her adorned in white, Dornish silk. He marveled at the idea of their wedding feast, their bedding celebration...and ultimately, _her_ and what it would feel like to be with someone so utterly _divine._

But he had seen Eliesse's eyes the other night...something was amiss. Though he knew the news had clearly bid her a terrible grief...he yearned to know _why._ "Eliesse!" Robb called after the girl who was pulling farther ahead into the dark brush.

Eliesse turned, slowing her pace to meet the lad's beckoning call. "Can't keep up, Stark?" She laughed, halting Snow. She yanked her steed's reigns, pulling the horse around to meet Robb who had begun to trot forward on his own. "You were always the slower one" she smirked, her eyes wild with Dornish spirit. Robb loved that part of her...

He marveled at the sight for a moment, losing his train of thought. "...I believe you're thinking of Jon. He was always the less _experienced_ rider" he smiled playfully at the girl.

 _He has more experience than you think, boy…_ Eliesse thought curtly to herself, a delicious chill running hot down her spine. "Perhaps" she spoke quickly, swaying from Robb's blue stare. She jumped off the horse, and glanced over her shoulder to a pretty lake that glowed hauntingly green with moss and brush at its reflection. A fog lapped ominously at its surface, creating a soft chill in the girl's sight. It was strangely beautiful, to say the least.

Robb watched her under his red curls as he fastened his horse to a tree. "Pretty, isn't it?" He spoke after a grueling pause. Eliesse turned to meet his eyes, noting he was approaching her. She peered away and gazed back to the crisp lake. She nodded slowly, tightening the knot of Snow's reigns that she had drawn.

"How did you know of this place?" Eliesse asked quietly as Robb came to stand before the woman. He watched it adoringly, his eyes flickering to her plump lips and golden eyes. She felt uncomfortable at the his gaze...but she did not move. She was worried if she did, her _true_ feeling of matters would reveal in an ugly fashion. So, she stood still, allowing the boy to hungrily soak in the beauty that was her.

"My father took me here once, he told me when him and my mother had first married and she travelled to Winterfell from Riverrun when Robert's war was won...he took her here. To speak to her about how she _felt_...truly. You know, my mother was never meant for my father" Robb glanced to his side at the lioness who had taken up place there quietly. Her eyes were forward, boring into the lake ahead of her. She did not flinch or let any emotion she felt trickle through. Robb frowned at the fact, wishing she would let her guard down and speak freely. _He would never judge or be cross with her for it._

"Is that so? Who was she meant for then?" Eliesse asked after a pressing moment. She was genuinely curious...Lady Stark was rather... _prickled._ She couldn't imagine any man taking her hand by _choice._ So, the question stood; who was the once _unlucky_ turned _lucky_ bastard? The air was thick and silent around the pair. Robb kept his eyes forward as well, his hands folding boldly over his chest as he sucked in a daring breath.

"His brother...my uncle who died during Robert's Rebellion...Brandon Stark".

Eliesse cringed at the ominity of his revelation and mentally slapped herself for the crude inner dialogue a moment before.

Catelyn was meant for Ned's brother... _as the lioness was meant for Robb's._

"That must've been quite awkward" Eliesse stifled a laugh. She cursed herself once more for the blunt display...how _stupid_ and _ignorant_ of her to do such a thing in Robb's presence. To laugh ill of the dead...and _his uncle_ , at that. The girl must've gone _mad_ in her mind at the irony of it all.

Robb was not sore from the girl's reaction. He smiled quietly as well. "I suppose...my father wanted to speak to her about the circumstance. Funny he would speak _after_ the fact that they were already married off and I was born, as well. It seemed the conversation was a _tad_ too late" it was Robb's turn to laugh now. Eliesse smiled at the sound, appreciating Robb's ability to find humor in the ugly circumstance. "When my father and mother came to bid me news that I would be wed to a Frey girl some day...I was cross. I wouldn't speak to them for days. I bloodied my fist on the stable wall...I thought it was _unfair…"_ Robb smiled to himself, likely reflecting on a turbulent but amusing time of his youth. "It was just after you had visited Winterfell. Probably...a few months after you'd left. I…" Robb stopped suddenly, turning to the girl slowly. Eliesse met his stare curiously, wondering what word lay at bay in the boy's mouth that did not wish to part through.

"You...what?" Eliesse encouraged, cocking a proud brow at the young wolf. Robb met her eyes, his own holding something she couldn't comprehend.

"I...was upset. Because I...well...it's amusing actually...maybe not so much to _you_...but I got upset with them and told them that I wanted to marry _you"_ Robb laughed quietly, his hand suddenly twitched under the weight of his arm that held it firm. He was nervous. _She_ made him nervous.

Eliesse's eyes widened in recognition. Robb... _has cared for her...for so long…_ she turned completely to him, her brows unwinding in curiousness and wrapping with pity. "Oh...Robb...oh, Robb, I'm sorry—

"No, don't. Don't apologize…" Robb smiled suddenly, shaking his head. "I was so young...truth would be, you were the first girl really that I had ever interacted...and you were so pretty. You are _more_ than that, now...I was only a boy, the feeling passed after a few months. I met other girls... _lay_ with other girls…" Robb watched the girls face curiously, searching for a flicker of distaste at the revelation that she would not be his first once they lay together as man and wife one day. But he did not find it. He wondered for a moment if that meant the same for _her._

 _Was there someone else for the Dornish girl? Has she_ _ **had**_ _someone else?_

"It was a boyish crush. Nothing more. But seeing you five years later...the infatuation came back with a vengeance. I won't lie to you...I was _happy_ when King Robert announced our marriage. I felt like I'd won all the gold and glory a man could greedily earn for a lifetime...until I seen your face...I guess what I'm trying to say is...my father... _wishes_ he had a moment to bid my mother her word on the notion of their arranged marriage. Perhaps...she would've spoke differently if a choice was presented to her. My father...he might wonder some days on that matter, too...and I'm sure he _did_ in the years to come as my mother had to watch Jon be raised alongside her own trueborn sons and daughters. Perhaps even, my father... _would've_ married Jon's mother, had he not been obligated to _mine._ I mean, she must've meant a great deal to him, for my _honorable_ father to forsake his vow to Catelyn Tully. I...just don't want that for us. I know in my heart that I am happy with the choice that has been laid for me...I just want to make sure that you are, too. And if you're not, say it here and true Eliesse Lannister. I promise you...I will not let them sentence you to this life if it is not a life you wish. I wouldn't allow that...I wouldn't _want_ that. I don't want to marry you and know that every night I share your bed and crawl upon you, that you wish and fantasize I am someone _else..._ that it is someone else kissing you, touching you... _inside of you..._ I don't want to give you children that, even though you love them true...you _wish_ they bared a _different_ name...a different _face_...that...would _kill_ me worse than you just telling me now...that _I_ am not who _you_ want".

Robb took Eliesse's hand, stroking the back of it lovingly. He smiled weakly at her, _afraid_ for what she would say but prepared none the least. It was what was _right._ Robb couldn't live with himself if he forced Eliesse into a life she didn't want…

 _...or tore her away from a love she couldn't have._

Eliesse stared at Robb, her eyes quivering with sadness she tried her damndest to swallow. _Why_ , she screamed in her mind. _Why did you have to be such a good man, Robb? You don't deserve this. You deserve love. Real, love._ Robb cared about her... _genuinely._ And though the boy was not madly swooning for her attention or beckoning for her love...he wanted it. Undividedly. And he would pay his price to earn it, if she would have him.

But Eliesse knew she couldn't give it to him—her love.

So the lioness gave the only thing she could offer in return of his kind, honest word. _Truth._

 _To some degree...at least._

"Robb...I...wish to be honest with you and as transparent as you have been to me in this moment...it's not that I don't want _you…"_ Eliesse began, her voice calm and firm...yet soft and offering a soothe she didn't readily give out to many, if any at all. Robb met her eyes curiously, intrigued and yearning for whatever would spill from her tasteful lips. But when the young woman furrowed her brow and exhaled softly...the young wolf knew. She needn't speak her woe.

"There is someone else" Robb said softly, his eyes lowering for a moment. He exhaled his own breath that had been frightened to come forth. But the realization had dawned at last, and the only thing left was to be proud and brave in its wake. Robb met her eyes once more, a look of understanding washing over his handsome features. "You needn't say more, my Lady...he...whoever _he_ is...well, he must be _something_ to have your heart so tenderly grasped. I will tell my parents to call off the betro—

"No!" Eliesse almost shouted, her heart sputtering in frantic wisps. _He couldn't! They would know! And she and Jon would lose their chance at freedom..._ not before Lord Stark found the truth...she would _have_ to comply until then.

 _Or run._

"No? Then what is it?" Robb asked curiously. Eliesse closed her eyes suddenly, unsure of how to meet this boy's gaze that searched her own for truth and affirmation of feeling.

"It is...yes. You are correct...there _is_ someone...but...our love is not...it wouldn't work out" Eliesse whispered, her eyes opening to peer into Robb's. His sky blue glare was soft and attentive, as he gently took the girl's hand once more.

"Why?" Robb asked sincerely. He could see that this revelation pained the lioness. It hurt him indirectly to watch her writhe in heartache...especially when she was so proud to never show her true emotions. This man, _whoever he was,_ meant a great deal to the woman.

"It's...complicated. We come from two _very_ different worlds…"

"You left him back in the Capital?" Robb questioned, unsure if he was really in search of an answer or a lie to help aid his bruised ego.

"...not the capital... _home._ He...is where home is. And I cannot go home. So...he will remain there until I can...if _ever._ It has taken some time...but I've had to consider the possibility that...I might never go home...no matter how much I _yearn_ to. It is unfair...but it is the _truth._ I feel like I'm chasing his memory...the idea of what we _could have..._ without _really_ pondering the conclusion of what _is._ And that is that I am here. Right now. Before you... _sworn to you._ It is not an easy feat to swallow...but it is... _true._ " Eliesse muttered, her eyes unwilling to meet the young wolf through the thickness that had built at the stem of her throat.

A breeze whistled through the eerie forest. The lake beside the lion and wolf began to ripple in the winds wake...it churned towards the two who stood silent on the bank.

Robb watched Eliesse silently. _So she loved someone…_

...but there was no hope. She _couldn't_ go home…

... _yet, if she could, would she?_

"Is...it done? Are you...done with him?" Robb whispered, his voice fearful of what it would elicit above the meek silence that had spared between the two. "I cannot hold your past against you...but I want to know what you look forward to in your future…"

"I don't know...no. I don't...think so...I don't know what our future holds...but I don't know if I'll _ever_ be done with him. With what... _we wished for._ Perhaps I'm a fool" Eliesse scoffed, a cold chill biting at her wet cheek. She hadn't realized she had been crying. The lioness felt cold leather grasp her chin softly as it raised. Robb met her eyes once more in kindness.

"I wonder...if my mother felt this way. About my uncle...he was taken so ripe...perhaps, she felt... _feels_ there is unfinished business...I am happy you were honest with me…" Robb gently released Eliesse's face from his leathered grasp. He gazed upon her sincerely, his eyes searching for a recognition he didn't believe he could find.

 _But he hoped._ And like his mother and father's predicament, sometimes it was enough.

"...when my parents arranged my marriage to the Frey girl...and I was _visibly_ upset...my mother came to speak with me in the Godswood. She said...I could _learn_ to love. Like she learned to love father...some are arranged and loathe one another until the day they die...others are luckier...some meet and fall in love...some meet and find _patience..._ I know I am not this man you love...but you are here, and you haven't cast me away yet...which...means to _me..._ perhaps you have patience for me. It is all I can ask and be thankful for, Eliesse. I am patient. I will wait for you...and one day I hope when you speak of a fierce love...it is I you refer to" Robb smiled small. He leaned in slowly and pressed a tender kiss to the girl's forehead. Eliesse closed her eyes in sadness at the notion.

 _She knew she could never love Robb._ And one day, he'd have to find out that sometimes patience, though virtuous and honorable... _was just not enough._

—

Robb and Eliesse led their steeds to the great gates of Winterfell. "Will you join me for dinner tonight, my Lady? Nothing of romance...but Theon swears he will steal a wine flagon and I believe celebration amongst the young men and women should ensue. I have told Jon of the plan as well...we will see if mother will _allow_ him at our table for the final feast before the Royal Guard departs. It would be nice to have merriment with him before he leaves for the Wall, too" Robb smiled sadly, stopping just outside the large gate.

 _Jon. The Wall..._

"Robb...I want to ask you something. As a request...between _friends…"_ Eliesse suddenly spoke, causing the lad to turn to her swiftly. He cocked a brow at the woman, a small smile at his lip for the girl's sudden haste.

"What is it?"

Eliesse sucked in a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding hostage in her lungs. She was _afraid_ to ask. Not because she thought it would _upset_ Robb...but for what it meant if he said _no._ The lioness would not leave Jon's side. She _couldn't._ It was beyond the notion of love and despair for the bastard...it was something _more._ Something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but a _feeling._

 _It was like her soul was_ _ **attached**_ _to Jon it an ominous and strange way._

A chill would run swift upon her spine when she imagined being far from the bastard...she felt _ill..._ and not in control of her body.

 _Like a strange magic had bound them together for_ _survival...and if they parted…_

 _...death._

"I know...we are betrothed. And with that honor, I am to stay in Winterfell until the wedding...but Robb...you _know_ I have seen so little of this country...I...want to see the northern wall" Eliesse quickly spoke, her eyes firm and proud as she held Snow tight at her side. Robb's eyes widened at the Dornish girl's word. _She what?_

"Eliesse, there are _no_ women on the Wall...of the Night's Watch…it is filled with the scum of Westeros...rapist, thieves...murderers...men _banished"_ Robb warned, signaling a watch guard to open the gate. The old man sounded a horn as a scuffle ensued behind the great wooden doors. Robb's eyes hung low for a moment. _What did that make Jon?_

I suppose the answer was simple; _an unlucky bastard._

"I _know_ that, Robb. I would not go alone. I would take an escort. Only for a short time...my father...and Lord Arryn...has told me so much of this northern wonder. I believe it is my _duty_ as a Stark to come to know my borders, and bid my respect and thanks to the men who man it...I want to show the north that even though I am a Lannister by blood...my allegiance now lies with the north. Winter is coming" Eliesse mused, her golden eyes daring and pleading. Robb scoffed in slight as the doors lurched open slowly. He glanced back to the lioness' glare that did not quiver.

 _She was serious._ And _quite_ persuasive.

It was true...if she was to be a Stark some day, she should know her borders and the men who guard them. Like Uncle Benjen and father said...the Stark's have manned the Wall for centuries. It is a right of passage by birth to pay your respect to the Wall.

 _And a right of passage through marriage._

Catelyn Tully had always spoke that no matter the years that passed during her time in the north, she always felt like an outsider. Perhaps it were because she never _truly_ took the time to embrace what it meant to be a northerner...to share the blood of the First Men...and while Lord Stark's soldiers and bannermen respected the Stark matriarch...Robb knew there was an inclining of resentment. Southerners believed they were better than northern men...and northern men were much aware of the thought.

 _He didn't wish for Eliesse to fall victim to such opinions._ Perhaps the north would rise for their Lady to come if they seen the fierce and strong warrior she truly was. Perhaps...a journey north was not a _strange_ idea after all, on that premise.

"How long" Robb demanded. He turned to eye girl sternly, though Eliesse recognized the kind banter in his blue eyes. She smiled inwardly, though refused to let the emotion seep the surface of her olive face. She knew if she appeared _too_ satisfied and relieved...Robb would begin to question _why._

"A moon at best, Robb. That is all. I swear it" Eliesse spoke confidently, leading her horse through the opened gates. Robb followed closely behind her, agreeing with haste to the woman's request.

"I will speak to my mother...I'm sure once I explain _why_ you wish to go North…" Robb replied, steadying his horse. Eliesse stopped abruptly, never turning to face Robb. She fell rigid at the mention of Catelyn Stark... _Jon had told her of her threats against the bastard if he ventured too near the lioness._ If _anyone_ were to suspect the romance between the bastard and Dornish girl...it would be her. She mustn't know of the woman's goodwill trip.

"Robb, there is no need to bother your mother of such trivial matters. I will be gone not so long...I'm sure she would rather fill her mind with your father and the girls, and Bran...she is a woman in pain. She is losing half her family at once. I'm sure she wouldn't even notice my absence through her aching heart…" Eliesse's clever tongue and wit beckoned. She turned curtly to Robb who pondered her words closely. Bless the lad...he would make a good husband true, one day...always listening to the woman, he was.

"And if she asks…"

"Just tell her I wanted to see the wall. I took an appropriate Guard for escort...and I'll be back before she notices" Eliesse smiled sweetly, her knuckles turning a ghastly white behind her back as she gripped her steed's reigns roughly. _Just comply..._ she thought bitterly to herself.

"I suppose, my Lady. I wish I could join you...but with father gone…" Robb began, picking his step up once more towards the busy courtyard. Eliesse waved the boy off, her mind a flurry of anxiousness and wonder. She wished Robb would stop speaking so much of the matter...she was sure if he kept on about the circumstance, he would find a way to intrude on her tour.

"It is fine. I understand. Do not miss me too much, Stark" she smirked, yanking Snow to the stables. Robb chuckled and followed the girl closely.

"I will do my best".

"Robb Stark! Lady Eliesse!" A voice boomed from behind the basking pair as they headed the stables.

 _The King._

Eliesse slanted her eyes in secret at the fat oaf. King Robert trotted to the boy and girl on his steed, basked in green and gold armor and an entourage of Kingsguard men and Stark soldiers…

...And Lord Stark himself.

 _The poor horse...it'll collapse under your fat arse before you venture beyond the lip of Winterfell's lands._ "Your Grace," Eliesse smiled sweetly as she bowed her head. "Another hunt to close out your Royal trip?" Eliesse questioned, though she knew the answer. _Of course another hunt for boar...and at dinner tonight, another hunt for the ripest northern cunt he can find._

"Aye, girl...the prey run wild in the north…nothing like the game in the south. One final hunt for I and my men...and my trusted _Hand…_ " Robert smirked grotesquely at Lord Stark who kept his stare honest and kind.

His eye flickered to the Dornish girl who held his leer for a brisk moment before dropping it quietly. "Of course. I wish you good fortune in your hunt…" Eliesse whispered quietly, her knuckles becoming frosty once more at the intensity to which she gripped Snow's reigns behind her back.

"Many thanks, _Lady Stark…"_ The king boomed with laughter once more, signaling a puppet-like chorus from the fools surrounding him.

 _All but Lord Stark bellowed their amusement._

"Robb! You are to become Lord of Winterfell, boy...come join us on this hunt. I wish to bid your ear _advice_ on how to keep your Lady happy and not _squawking_ all day long…" King Robert called down from his trembling horse to the young wolf who stood quietly at Eliesse's side.

Robb smiled politely, his eyes flickering to Eliesse who remained quiet and stoic. He wondered if she _hated_ King Robert.

 _It seemed that way by how the girl appeared so_ _ **rigid**_ _in his presence._

"An honor, Your Grace" Robb smiled, pulling his horse back around once more. He glanced to a Eliesse who nodded curtly, bidding her approval. Robb smiled small, leaning in to kiss the top of her golden head. "Try not to get into too much trouble, Lannister". He winked playfully at the lioness, bidding his jest.

He did not linger, though.

Eliesse watched quietly as Robb pulled himself atop his horse once more and followed the thundering entourage back outside Winterfell's great gates. When the Dornish girl was _sure_ they had dissipated and she were no longer in view, she scurried onward to the stables, never sparing a fleeting glance back over her shoulder.

She lead Snow sleuthly into a stall, securing her reigns upon an old rusted spike. She stared into the fine horse's large, black eyes. "Shh...be still, girl" she muttered, brushing her golden mane from her eyes. "I will fetch you some fruit from the kitchen…" she whispered for the horse's ears only. Without another word, she exited the stall quietly, sealing the door behind her.

She turned on her heel swiftly, her mind a bustle of a boy she had accidentally left dwindling in the wind.

Quickly, she marched as fast as the _stifling,_ blue velvet dress would allow her to, her mind set on the Godswood and the bastard boy who would surely be waiting.

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a passing stall.

Eliesse yelped, grabbing her aggressors arm as swift and rough as they'd done her. The person pushed Eliesse firmly against the wooden wall of the stall, their hand tight against the girl's plump lips. She raised her eyes in fright at the person who held her captive in such haste.

She relaxed.

 _Jon._

Eliesse grabbed the boy's hand and thrust it from her lips where they held the woman's word and breath at bay. "Are you _mad?"_ Eliesse whispered harshly, her eyes sharp on the bastard before her.

Jon met her stare, his own curious and stern. "Not mad...I was confused when you didn't meet me in the Godswood like I had asked…" Jon muttered, his stormy grey eyes smoldering the lioness' fiery gold ones. "I thought maybe you were upset with me...perhaps I was _too_ rough last night…" he spoke quietly, his eyes wandering passionately over the woman and glistening of worry.

Eliesse frowned, raising her hand to stroke Jon's face that was irresistibly adorned in dark stubble. Stubble that somehow made him _more_ attractive and less of a _boy._ No, Jon was _all_ man. He'd proven it so, too. "Of course not. I was with Robb...he asked me to ride outside the gates with him" Eliesse replied, her eyes searching Jon's for a flicker of sadness. But she did not find it.

Though, _something else_ lingered there.

A moment passed silently between the two. Eliesse felt her stomach churn in discomfort at the mention of the bastard's brother. She thought for a moment that he might be _jealous_ or upset that she had left him waiting while she galavanted with the boy. "Jon…" she whispered, sensing a shift in his mood. She raised her hand once more to touch his face adoringly…but he snatched it before it grazed his chiseled jaw.

 _He thrust her hand above her head, against the cold stall wall._

"Jon, what is the prob—

"You smell like him" Jon muttered low, his eyes dripping of the familiar darkness that made Eliesss's heart spike in fear and want. He took a daring step forward to the girl, closing the existing minuscule gap between them. It was true, the lioness _did_ reek of the young wolf. And Jon could smell it. _Smell him._ His woman...his _mate,_ smelt of another _wolf._ And he didn't like it one bit.

Eliesse furrowed her brow at the boy, trying to retract her hand from the firm grip Jon held it from. "I'm wearing his cloak" Eliesse whispered. Jon stepped back slightly to look the furs up and down, his head tilt mockingly to the side. He peered back into Eliesse's eyes, his own holding slight disdain and annoyance. Eliesse held his gaze firm, she would not waiver under such a stare from the bastard. She smirked, becoming much aware of what Jon was hinting at with his eyes. "What is it, boy? It _is_ warm" the lioness taunted with a mischievous look in her eye.

Jon stood straight at her words, his eyes dark and brewing a storm the woman could not navigate... _nor should've._ "Is it, now" Jon remarked, his voice low and full of intent.

He lifted a hand to touch the fine wolf pelt, his hand running about the fastenings of the fine cloak.

 _He yanked it from her body in a single swift motion._

Eliesse yelped quietly, her eyes wide with accusation. "Jon, what in the Gods—

Jon grabbed the lioness by her waist and thrust her against the stall door. "Do you say these things to get a rise from me, girl?" He spoke low once more, stepping between Eliesse's suddenly trembling legs. Eliesse met Jon's eyes in confusion and shock. She wondered for a moment if Jon were actually _upset_ with her. She was only teasing the boy...

Abruptly, Jon captured her lips in a fevered, _rough_ kiss. Eliesse gasped in shock of the urgency Jon had displayed. She whimpered into the kiss, one hand rising to grab Jon and pull him closer, the other attempting to cast him away like he'd burned her. _It was truly a maddening feel._

"Jon, what are you doing?" Eliesse suddenly whispered, her breath long gone, leaving the woman panting. "Are you _mad?_ We are in the stable...someone could…" Jon silenced the girl once more by laying a lustful kiss under her ear. _Her sweet spot._ His hand rose to grasp her roughly around the waist as he pressed his full weight into the woman. Eliesse closed her eyes involuntarily at the sensation of Jon's lips at her flesh. On and on he trailed up and down the woman's neck and throat, biting and sucking gently at the flushed flesh. She grasped Jon's shoulders in an effort to push him away, but her body betrayed her and she pulled him in closer instead. "Jon... _stop_ …" she moaned weakly, not quite believing her own protest of the bastard.

"No" he muttered simply against her neck. He ran his hands rough and slow up the woman's waist to her sides, squeezing gently and then _harder_ in the space just under her breast. He stopped suddenly, lifting his head in slight to meet the girl's eyes that were wild with lust and fear. "I don't like this dress...I can't _feel_ you" He spoke in the girl's ear. Without a word spared, he thrust the fabric of Eliesse's bodice open, exposing the swells of her round breast. Eliesse had little to no time to protest or question Jon before his mouth found soft, tender buds. He kissed and nipped, sucked and bit at Eliesse's breast, causing the woman to squirm against him in torturous pleasure.

Lower and lower the bastard dragged his lips against Eliesse's flushed skin, pulling undone the velvet dress along the way as he lay his siege to her olive flesh. Eliesse began to moan quietly, her breath escaping in fevered wisps from her slightly parted lips. She wanted to tell him to stop, that this was _mad_ , that _he_ was being _ridiculous,_ and someone would surely find them.

But she couldn't find her voice, _or_ the will to stop him.

He gently kissed her stomach, glancing up at the woman who was panting uncontrollably at his torture. Her hand was tangled in Jon's dark hair, the other holding the stall wall dearly as though her legs would give out at any moment.

Jon found himself at the woman's thigh as he continued to kiss and bite over her trembling flesh. He stopped at the crux of her pelvis, glancing up at the woman. "Theon told me once...that all the Dornish girl's love to be kissed... _here"_ he nodded toward the lioness' maidenhood, meeting her eyes once more to relish the woman's reaction. "I want to know...if it's true".

Eliesse's eyes flashed hot with shock as she grabbed Jon's hair to stop him. "Jon, you can't do... _oh…"_ but it was too late, the bastard was intent and _would_ deliver. He found the lioness with a daring swipe of his tongue and moist mouth. Eliesse gasped, her legs nearly collapsing at the sensation Jon drew forth. She writhed against the wall as she fought the adverse instinct to push the boy away and then pull him in closer and _deeper_. Her hands trembled as they took refuge in his hair, squeezing him harder against her, as she gave in to the latter.

In the quiet stall, Eliesse panted, calling the bastard's name repeatedly. Her breath left her body in unrhythmic patterns as Jon pleasured her in ways she _had never_ been before.

She could scarcely recall her cousins speaking of this sort of _thing_. Of the _ecstasy_ it elicited for a woman...how they would laugh and jest about _the only correct place to kiss a woman is down there..._ it was the _Dornish way._ She would always listen to the stories of her older cousins and Sunspear handmaidens...she always wondered what the big deal was... _why_ would any man want to kiss a woman _there_ and why would any woman _allow_ it.

 _Now, she knew._

It took only a short time for Jon to find Eliesse with his mouth before the girl felt her body give way and explode in euphoria. Jon was almost disappointed at how quickly she had become undone. He didn't want to _stop_. He had always wondered and yearned to know what the lioness tasted of...and now that he knew she was as _sweet_ as she looked...he didn't want to stop. He imagined for a moment that he could devour the girl whole by just the sweetness she excreted. He felt himself become _aroused_ at her trembling, her desperate moans beckoning his own release.

 _And to think he hadn't even entered her yet._

She moaned the boy's name aloud by accident, causing Jon to quickly raise his hand against her lips and silence her cries of pleasure to anyone who would be passing by. He held her there for a moment, until her writhing ceased and her cries subsided to heavy breaths. When he was sure she would be still, he rose from between her legs and slowly lowered his hand from her trembling lips. She stared at Jon in bewilderment, her eyes heavy in lust and shock for the bastard boy. He placed his finger at his lip, beckoning the girl to be quiet. She met his eyes, nodding slowly as she tried to re-establish her breath.

He slowly began to draw the woman's dress back upon her waist and her shoulders as he fixed the ruffled material. Eliesse watched him in adoration. _How he could bring her to her knees with only the simplest of touches and gestures._

Well, perhaps not _simple._

He fastened the last of her strings on her bodice and met her eyes. He took the woman by the nape of her neck gently and pulled her in for a tender, sweet kiss. Eliesse obliged, her breath still swept and quivering. When they pulled apart finally, Jon met her eyes in dark satisfaction. "I promise I'll be better when I do that again" he whispered gently, brushing her lips slowly. Eliesse pulled away to stare bewildered upon the boy.

"There's _better_ than _that?"_ Eliesse scoffed, fixing her dress about its sleeves.

"I will show you...I'm not finished with you, yet...but with those _desperate_ little noises you were making...it's best we move from _here"_ Jon smirked, tucking a gold curl behind the woman's ear that had run free during his onslaught. Eliesse blushed slightly, her eyes rolling in irritation of the boy's jest. He captured her face between his fingers, forcing her to meet his eye. "Go on and change into one of your pretty Dorne dresses...this...is not _you_. And I want _you._ Meet me in the Godswood" Jon spoke, releasing the woman's face. He stepped back to gaze upon his golden beauty. He smirked playfully at Eliesse, watching an unrecognizable shift in her eye.

She stared at Jon, her lips pursed in annoyance and brow cocked in arrogance at how he demanded her around so.

 _But she would not protest._

Swiftly, she turned to leave to the stall door. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes" she spoke quick and proud, unwilling to meet Jon's obvious satisfied expression. She turned to open the door, when she felt Jon grab her arm once more. He twisted her around to meet his stormy grey stare once more.

"Don't keep me waiting again" He muttered darkly, his eyes dancing with a wildness the woman could scarcely tame. Her heart shuttered in deliciousness of Jon's dominant side when it came to her…

... _she wouldn't disappoint him._

Eliesse thrust her arm back from his grip, meeting his eye with the same mischief he bore in his own. Without a word, she disappeared through the rickety stall door and out of the stable. Jon smiled after her, his heart a fury of adoration and want. He waited a moment, allowing for anyone who could be lurking outside the stable to forget the woman's passage and allow him to slip out equally unnoticed.

He took a breath and stepped out, content to witness that the stable was quiet and empty of folk and steeds.

He stalked quickly for the stable door and thrust it open.

He halted—someone was standing before him, curious and swishing a chalice of wine about their _little_ hand.

"Jon Snow...Lord Stark's _bastard..._ how _are_ the horses today?" Tyrion Lannister spoke curtly, eyeing the boy from under his protruding brow. He stepped closer to the bastard, who's blood had suddenly run cold. "You were in there for _quite_ sometime...I assume the horse's must not be _well?"_ Tyrion walked slowly around Jon to peer into the old stable that bared no livestock…

...except _Snow._

"Oh...just _Snow…_ Pretty little thing, isn't she? My father got it from a merchant in Kings Landing during the summer my daughter journeyed from Dorne. A little " _welcome home"_ gift. Funny, you don't have _any_ names...yet you share one with my daughter's horse. More peculiar...her horse didn't have a name for the _longest_ while...that is...until she went north for the first time with Lord Arryn. Suddenly, she came home and the horse had a name! How wonderful! I always thought she was inspired by the north...perhaps compared Snow's slick, white coat to what besieged the grounds in the wasteland... _perhaps…"_ Lord Tyrion cocked his large head at Jon Snow who stood silent and uneasy at the Lord's witty words.

"She did love the Snow" Jon finally spoke, finding his voice that was barely above a whisper. Tyrion raised a brow at the bastard boy, sipping his wine curtly.

"Yes...it would seem _she did_ love the _Snow._ Funny, isn't it?" Tyrion questioned, walking into the stable and gazing curiously about the old structure. "Speaking of my daughter…did you see her in here, Jon _Snow?_ I was looking for her and asked a few squires if they'd seen my Dornish beauty. They said they seen her escorting her horse back to Winterfell's stables...so...I came seeking her. I was hoping she'd bid her father a nice lunch in the Royal Wheelhouse...I wanted to speak to her of her _marriage_ to your _brother._ Oh, silly me. Did you _hear?_ She is to _wed_ your _brother, Robb_. Ned Stark's _trueborn_ son" Tyrion questioned, eyeing Jon with a mocking glint. Jon shifted uncomfortably from where he stood, his eyes lowering to the ground before him. Hearing of his love's betrothal to his _brother_ made him _uncomfortable_ and he could do scarcely all to hide it. Tyrion noted his reaction from behind his chalice, eyeing the boy curiously.

Ah, there was the _curious_ look again, in the bastard's eye. _Such a pained look._

"I am aware, my Lord. I suppose congratulations are in order" Jon replied mechanically, meeting the dwarf's pondering look once more.

"Of course...I suppose that was what you were doing in there...with her. _My daughter._ You were _congratulating_ her on her nuptials to come" Tyrion spoke. "I mean, it was _you_ in there with her, was it not, bastard?" He stood straight as he called on Jon, one hand tiredly swishing about his wine, the other neatly tucked behind his back. He raised his brow at Jon, beckoning his voice to come forth.

Jon stood silently, his hands began to twitch in _unease_ at his side. He knew his word would have to be _wise_. "I…" He began slowly, unsure of what to say to the proud dwarf. Tyrion raised his hand slowly, bidding the bastard to be silent.

"Of course it was you. When I came looking for my sweet, Ellie...I thought I heard her. I could've been wrong...but my...the voice that was _calling_ the name _Jon...over and over..._ I was certain it _must_ belong to my daughter. And then when I seen her leave after a _remarkably_ short time after, I knew. You are _talented_ it would seem, boy…it takes even a _professional_ _man_ like myself some time to please a woman. And here you are...a seeming _professional_ yourself. Where _have_ you bid your practice from, bastard? Or should I ask from _whom?"_ Tyrion mocked once more. Though the dwarf's tone was raised in amusement, there was no hint of joy on his disgruntled face. He had stumbled upon his daughter being dishonored in a bloody _shack._

 _By a bastard._

Jon felt his mouth run dry and his heart sputter in fear. _He'd been caught._ No...

 _ **...they'd**_ _been caught._ And worse, by the lioness' _father._

"Do speak, boy. Perhaps you have advice for an _old_ professional as myself" Tyrion raised his chalice in jest at the bastard, though the compliment didn't quite resonate. Jon opened his mouth to speak, but closed it once more for fear he'd dig himself and Eliesse into farther graves. "Actually, don't. I suppose there isn't much to say to the _father_ of the girl you'd been _fucking_ so brazenly in the stable. Perhaps word would better ensue to _your_ father...or perhaps Lord Stark's wife...she seems to be _quite_ the fan of yours. No...maybe your _brother_ ; it is _his wife_ you were dishonoring, wasn't it?" Tyrion cocked his large head once more at the bastard, his fingers rapping amusingly at the gold chalice that was nearly dry. Though the gesture seemed light and jossing-like, it was not. Tyrion Lannister, the _jokester_ of Casterly Rock was _angry._

Jon shot his eyes low upon the dwarf as they filled with anger of his own. "She is _not_ Robb's wife"

"So you don't deny it...that you were _dishonoring h_ er" Tyrion mused, sipping the last of his wine that had seemed to go down more _bitter_ than the rest. He glared up at the bastard who only closed his eyes at recognition of his _childish_ stumble.

"I was not...we...I... _she_ was talking to me about…" Jon stammered, his voice faltering once more. He couldn't think of _anything_ to say that might grant the boy and his Lady a _pass_ at being in close quarters alone. He knew it was _indecent._ One being he was alone with a _betrothed_ high lady, and two being he was a _bastard._

"Ah, of course you were. Word of advice bastard...if you'll allow me to bid you some _once more..._ a _professional man_ who means to take someone's wife...would scarcely do so in the light of day. I hope you remember that...more so, I hope you remember _who's_ wife you are taking...and more so, _who's daughter._ I look forward to dining with my Ellie for dinner and learning of _all_ the things you spoke of in this quiet stable. I would send for her now to lunch...but it seems you've _filled_ that appetite already. Good day, bastard...we _must_ stop meeting under such _peculiar_ circumstance" without a final silver word spared from the clever imp, he turned brisk on his short leg and walked firmly back to the courtyard from which he straggled, one hand clasped around his empty chalice, the other proudly around his back.

—

"My _father?"_ Eliesse nearly yelled above the quiet fire in Jon's chamber. She thrust herself from the bed and stared accusingly at Jon. "You tell me this _now?_ After you've had your fill, _Snow?"_ She slant her eyes at the bastard boy who got up immediately after seeing the distress on the woman's beautiful face.

"I _told you_ in the Godswood that I had to tell you something _very_ important. That someone _saw_ us and the only thing you were concerned about was me telling you _after_ we'd had our fun. You even dragged me back to my chambers because you realized _privacy_ might've been of importance…" Jon spoke softly, standing before the fuming Dornish girl. Eliesse rolled her eyes at Jon's martyrism. _He knew what she meant._ He should've spoken up _immediately_ if it was a person of such _importance._ Seven hells, the woman thought Jon might've been referring to a wench or squire... _not her father._ Still, the fact didn't matter of what status the watcher possessed…

...it only mattered that they had _seen._

"You should've started your sentence with _that_ first…" Eliesse seethed, turning to retrieve her dress that has been discarded across the room. "Do you understand the _trouble_ I am about to endure?" She threw over her shoulder as she stumbled about to fit her leg through the slinky Dornish silk.

"Eliesse, come here…" Jon muttered, walking slowly to the girl. She faced away from him angrily as she tugged and pulled at the _stupid_ dress to fit over her slick and sweaty body. "You...will be in trouble...no doubt. But I promise I will take the brunt of it. I...will tell them I forced myself on you" Jon whispered, helping the girl fasten the back of the dress.

Eliesse turned abruptly to meet the bastard boy's eye. " _You will do no such thing!_ You know they'll punish you _severely..._ God's...as _irritated_ as I am with you for your lack of urgency in the matter...I do not resent you enough to sentence you to the Wall early...or _death,_ seeing as I'm _sure_ Catelyn Stark would call for your head if you admitted to _raping_ her son's betrothed" Eliesse pulled away from Jon's hand just as he'd fastened the last string. "I must go" she spoke quickly, ruffling her tousled and messy hair.

"Eliesse, just _wait_ a second. Do you _really_ think your father would go to Lord Stark...or even _the King_ on such a matter?" Jon muttered, grabbing the Dornish girl's hand. He raised it to his mouth where he lay a reassuring kiss upon it. Eliesse sighed deeply, melting at the gesture. She cursed Jon Snow silently for making her so _soft._

"I...I don't know, Jon. Hells...for all I know, he could've been in on this whole ordeal. On my grooming in the Capital...perhaps he even sat in on the discussions surrounding my marriage to Robb...I just... _don't know._ And I won't chance your life. I need to speak to him...quickly. Before _he_ speaks to anyone _else._ Even if he doesn't sell me out to Lord Stark and the King...because I'm _his daughter...you_ are nothing to him. He wouldn't think twice"

"And that is my cross to bear. I will face the punishment for my crime, honorably" Jon spoke quickly, grabbing the girl in at her waist. He pressed a reassuring kiss to her fevered forehead. But Eliesse was not satisfied at his word. She pulled away from him, anger dripping through her angelic features and tarnishing its beauty.

"I do not accept that" she spat, turning once more. Jon grabbed her hands gently, pulling her back to him. He smiled weakly, brushing the golden curls from her bitter eyes.

"Eliesse...I don't believe your father intends to go to _anyone_ but _you_ on the matter. When he spoke to me...it was more _warning_ than threatening. It was like...he was telling me that if I continued this...if _we_ continued this...we should be careful. Perhaps, I've lost my mind then" Jon mumbled, walking to retrieve his own garments. He pulled his tunic over his head and began to pull up his trousers. "I don't think your father is _in_ on this plot of King Robert and your grandfather, either. Think about it, Eliesse. They are ashamed of him...he is an outcast...and he told me outside the feasting hall your first night here...that _all dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes._ I don't believe Tywin would share such a calculated plan with his imp son" Jon returned to the girl who stood silent and pondering of the bastard's words.

"But he _knows"_ Eliesse whispered in despair. "And that is worrisome enough, for me. For _us_. I don't _believe_ my father would doom me...but you...that is why I need to speak to him. _Soon."_ Eliesse turned away from Jon's stormy glare that basked her in pity and sadness. She wished he wouldn't gaze upon her in such a way…

"Not like this. You are... _upset_. If you walk into his chambers _this_ distraught, he will believe there is more going on than just fevered, young desire. It is best to allow him to believe that this was a one time exchange. He was young once...I hear he _still is,_ to that effect. Relax. Come...you told me when you get like this... _upset,_ you enjoy... _changing your skin._ Do it. Show me...relieve yourself while you know I will watch over you and keep you safe" Jon whispered. "Would you like me to call Ghost?" He gestured the woman into his arms, to which she obliged tiredly.

"I... _want to fly"_ her voice was barely audible, but Jon could taste the wonder it held. His heart began to sputter at the notion she spoke. _He had never seen her do it before..._ Hell, apart of him thought she might've truly hit her head _too_ hard that night and had imagined the whole experience.

But the other half _believed_. He knew. How else could the lioness know of such intimate details regarding his conversation with Ghost?

Eliesse walked to Jon's bed, kicking her shoes off. She glanced shyly to the boy, her fingers intertwining and fumbling in a unfamiliar nervousness. "I've never done this for anyone before...do you swear you won't be afraid?" The lioness questioned, her eyes firm and searching of the bastard. He nodded slowly, his mind was unsure but his eyes were alive and agreeing of the woman. _Anything to please her._ "Sit on the bed...let me lay between your legs...I will...lose control of my body...my eyes will stay awake.. _._ Don't be afraid...I am fine…"

Jon sucked in a nervous breath as his heart never ceased its anxious fury. Still, the bastard walked to his bed and sat upon it. Slowly, he drew his back against the headboard and opened his arms to the Dornish girl. "I'm ready" he spoke softly, encouraging the woman forward.

Eliesse hesitated, but took a step nonetheless. She climbed slowly into the bed and crawled sleuthly to Jon who awaited her with open arms. She found them and sat between his legs, turning her body so her back was against his warm and hard chest. She exhaled a breath that lay stiff in her lung, trying to find her relaxed state. Jon sensed her rigidness and unease. He lifted a hand to wrap securely around her waist, while the other stroked her hair softly. "Whenever you're ready…" he whispered at her ear.

Eliesse inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She listened to the soft crackle of the fire within Jon's chambers. It hummed quietly to her, placing rhythm at her suddenly _wild_ mind.

The window was open and the Dornish woman could scarcely recognize the shrill of the northern wind that rushed impatiently in and out of the bastard's chamber.

She inhaled the breeze as it dawned on her senses. She could vaguely interpret the smell of fresh bread and pine... _how torturous for the bastard boy who must've smelt the feasts prepared regularly at Winterfell's castle._

A strange squawk captured the lioness' senses.

Eliesse inhaled deeper, straining her _strange_ mind to chase the patter and _swoosh_ of wings outside the bastard's tower. She listened patiently, the sound of wings beating defiantly at the cold, northern wind. It beckoned the girl forward as she could almost _taste_ the creature who created such a stir.

The sound ceased for a moment, the small chamber falling silent once more, accompanied only by the familiar crackling of firewood. Suddenly, a large black crow perched still and abrupt on the bastard's window. Jon flinched at the bird's arrival, thrown aback at the ominity of it being there so conveniently. He stared curiously as it ruffled its feathers and pecked greedily at his windowsill in search of corn or bread. He almost lost himself in his observations, until he felt the Dornish girl shift quietly. He gazed downward at Eliesse in his arms, forgetting for a moment she still rested there. He watched the timid rise and fall of her bodice, wondering what she was thinking and if she were even present any longer within her body.

Suddenly, the woman's eyes opened swift. But they were _not_ her eyes. Jon felt Eliesse's body go limp as he held her tighter to make up for her loss of control. He stared wide eyed down at the woman whose eyes were _ghostly white_ and unresponsive. "Eliesse…" Jon muttered, attempting to stable his sudden trembling arm. _What was this magic?_

He stroked the woman's arm softly, calling to her once more. That's when he noticed…

... _the crow's pecking at his window had ceased._

Jon glanced up slowly to the bird who seemed to be _too much_ aware of his presence within the chamber. His eyes flickered downward to his _sleeping_ beauty and then up once more to the crow who had turned completely to him and stood perched with silence. Jon's breath caught in his throat as he tried to find a word to bid forth. "...E...Eliesse…" he stumbled, sitting up with mild shock.

The bird burst away from the window in a mighty flap of dark wings, causing Jon to flinch once more. His chest heaved in wonder and _disbelief_ as he watched the crow soar higher and higher into the crisp, northern sky.

 _And there, the Dornish girl soared, indeed._

Eliesse beat her wings proudly, relishing the air that lapped greedily beneath them. She pushed herself higher into the blue skies, closing her eyes only for a mere moment to appreciate the freedom this skin bore.

She soared defiantly, turning about and gliding low to the plains before her. She was well beyond Winterfell's castle... _well beyond_ the body she left behind with a bastard boy to loom over it.

She rushed through green brush and pine, fields and lillies...she swooped low, her belly kissing the surface of the strange greenish lake Robb had brought her to earlier...on and on she flew, relishing in the feeling of her spirit eclipsing with the northern scape.

For a moment, the Dornish girl felt _free._ She rejoiced in the artificial distance she'd created between herself and Winterfell castle...for it held _resentment_ and anger, pain and _despair..._ yet, somewhere along those mentions, it held _happiness._

For a quivering second, Eliesse imagined flying for Dorne and never returning. She imagined sweeping over the northern skies, basking in the southern heat and reaching a land she craved so _deeply._

But Jon...Jon was her hold in these cold lands. He was the warm touch in her still night and the silver lining within her disparity. All Eliesse wanted to do was _leave_ these lands with Jon…she wished they could run away to Essos before it was _too late._

Somewhere deep in the lioness' heart, she didn't believe Ned Stark could liberate her...the Lannisters were crude... _relentless_ in obtaining what they wanted. Tywin would not let the young woman go so freely between his claws. Even if Ned could somehow bring him before a trial, to what avail would it do? Tywin Lannister had the Crown in his pocket...and worse, the loyalty of _most_ of the Seven Kingdoms. And while the woman was hopeful of Lord Stark's mission...she knew Jon and her's only hope was the _flee_ before the looming gears of war had begun to churn.

Perhaps she could convince Jon to _not_ take the Black...if he took it, and swore his life to the Night's Watch...he'd be bound by honor... _forever._ Any motion to flee the country would result in not only she, but Jon _too_ obtaining a title of fugitive...and worse…

 _...deserter._

Eliesse turned her large wing back towards the castle. She couldn't waste anymore time...she had to find her father and bid his forgiveness. No matter how much the woman would _loathe_ to bow and beg for generosity before _anyone_ , she didn't enjoy the idea of doing it before her _father_ , more. But she _needed_ his silence. If he were to turn Jon in, it would thwart her entire ploy to get them both safely from Winterfell and away from Lady Stark and the King's looming demands.

Winterfell's grand castle came into view as the girl soared and circled its grandest tower. A large, riddle with vine and rot structure that bore ominous gargoyles along its perches. Eliesse flew stealthy past it, leading onward for Jon's tower that resided not too far from it.

 _A scurrying figure caught the woman's keen bird's eye._

Eliesse circled the tower once more, curious of the dark shadow she witnessed cross it. She eyed many crows about the tower...some perched on old, rotted gargoyles, others on the ground at the foot of the old tower.

Eliesse turned the last edge of the tower, coming to a halt on a crumbled gargoyle head. Her eyes scanned the ledge of the tower, in search of the figure that had caught her eye from high in the sky. She gasped suddenly, her heart suddenly alive and rigorous from within the crows chest she bore _._

 _Bran._

Eliesse watched frighteningly as Bran struggled to pull himself to a broken window upon the tower. His face was screwed in concentration as he fingered the dusty edge of the wall, searching for a grip he could scarcely find. Eliesse's eyes widened in fear at the sight. _Bran! Seven Hells, I should return to my body and come to him at once! He's so high...what if he slips...what if he—_

Eliesse's internal fury was cut short by Bran swinging his leg on top of the slim ledge. Her heart nearly exploded when his foot missed the first attempt at leverage, but he regained his balance short after. _You silly boy...I'll be sure to tell your brother of the dangerous activities you are doing out here so far…_

Eliesse watched as Bran lay still, his hand grasping the wall for support as his eyes bore dead ahead into the window he leered at. Eliesse watched curiously, wondering what had the boy so fixated. Slowly, she flew from her perch to the gargoyle that lay beside him.

Bran turned quietly to Eliesse, observing her still form for a moment. His eyes were wide with wonder as looked _frightened_ at the lioness' arrival. Slowly, he drew a trembling finger to his mouth, bidding the girl to be silent. Eliesse stood still, _confused_ at what ailed the poor child. Bran turned quietly back to the window he peered from, his eyes _aware_ of something that lay before him. Eliesse followed his eye curiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of what intrigued the boy enough to risk his life on a withered windowsill.

 _Eliesse gasped, all blood and life draining from her feathered frame._

It was her uncle Jaime...he was naked, and taking a woman roughly from behind…

...that woman...yellow hair fell in tendrils around her face as she was bent awkwardly over. She panted and groaned in delight, meeting Jaime's aggressive thrust. His own pleasure was coming in rhythmic grunts and quiet whispers she could scarcely make out from her perch beside the small wolf boy _._ The woman tossed her head up in delight, her face twisted with lust and satisfaction…

 _Seven Hells...it couldn't be…_

 _...but it was..._

 _..._ _ **the Queen**_ _._

Cersei Lannister opened her eyes abruptly hearing the squeak of a bird. Eliesse's shock had bubbled at her throat and spilled before she could contain her fright and surprise. "Stop! _Stop!_ He seen us!" Cersei shrieked, her eyes wide and full of horror.

 _Jaime_...was...he was…

"He did" Jaime said nonchalantly. He turned to Cersei exchanging a look that was hidden from Bran and the lioness. Eliesse felt her heart exploding in a fiery rage and shock that nearly set the girl's entire body ablaze. She watched as Jaime stalked towards Bran who looked visibly confused and shaken from what he'd stumbled upon.

"Take my hand. Before you fall" he spoke calmly, extending a bare arm to Bran. Eliesse gaze shifted hastily between the pair as she watched Bran's hand tremble in uncertainty. Nonetheless, he grasped the woman's uncle's arm.

"What are you _doing?"_ Cersei shrilled once more, her eyes watering in a fright Eliesse could only attest to her imagining what the King would do once he finds out…

...of her _incestuous_ relationship with her _brother._

Jaime disregarded his sister's frantic woes. "How old are you?" He asked curiously, his face soft for the frightened boy.

"Ten" Bran replied softly, releasing the Lannister's arm from where he held it firm. Jaime tilted his head to the side, gazing deeply into Bran's quivering eyes. He inhaled sharply, his eyes pondering the boy in silence. Quietly, he shut them, as though he were deliberating something beyond the moment he stood at. He released his breath he held within his proud chest, glancing once more into the boy's eyes.

"The things I do for love" He spoke indifferently.

 _He shoved Bran out of the window._

Eliesse watched _horrifyingly_ as Bran screamed while flailing to the courtyard below. She too, screamed, with every tendron in her body. The sound came shrill and _deafening,_ as her crow body shrieked _unnaturally_ at the sight of Bran's falling figure. Eliesse watched as he fell down, down, down... _crack_.

The sound of Bran's body hitting the still courtyard elicited a _stomach wrenching_ crunch that deafened the girl from where she perched. She closed her eyes, the internal _scream_ never ceasing as she felt her body implode from within. The familiar heat that grasped and yanked her soul from her body had manifested into a _rage_ as she felt her mind rip from the crow it bore and re-enter her human form.

Eliesse jumped from Jon's arms, her body instantly drenched in a sweat the bastard couldn't comprehend. She clutched her chest in utter despair as the only audible thing to erupt from her lips was a chilling scream that scattered the crows from outside the bastard's window.

" _Bran!"_


End file.
